Back to Where You Came From
by KatherineRenniks
Summary: Dipper Pines is getting ready to turn 19. He's returned to Gravity Falls with his twin sister in tow, having just graduated high school, ready to be Ford's apprentice. When he arrives, he's shocked to realize that, not only did he forget just how much he missed his lumberjill best friend, but that the recent increase in abnormal phenomena isn't the work of Cipher. WenDip, MabelxOC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Taking the bus to Gravity Falls never got any more fun. Dipper shifted uncomfortably, the hard seat starting to make his butt feel numb. As usual, he and his twin sister, Mabel, were the only two people left on the bus after the layover in Portland.

People didn't really come to Gravity Falls to visit. It was sort of off the map for most.

The young man shifted his gaze out the window, remembering the last few times he had been to Gravity Falls to see his great-uncles Ford and Stan. He'd spent the entire summer here when he was 14, but high school seemed to get in the way after that. As a member of varsity cross-country, he was usually training all summer when he wasn't working.

But all that was finally over. He'd graduated first in his class. Ford had come to see him give his valedictorian speech, which had pretty much made his entire week.

"Hey, bro," Mabel's voice echoed from a few seats behind. "Check out what I made you!" She handed him a blue knit sweater, bordered in gold with "UCLA" on the front. Dipper grinned.

"Hey, thanks, Mabel," he grabbed her hand and squeezed. "I'll wear it when I come visit you."

Mabel beamed with pride. She had gotten her acceptance into the UCLA Art and Design program several months ago. Since their 14th birthday in Gravity Falls, she'd really taken an interest in art class and had had her pick of schools when it came time to apply.

Dipper, well, he was a slightly different story. He'd applied to all of his top choices. Columbia, Princeton, Brown, Yale, you name it. He'd gotten into all of them. When he finally chose Brown University in Rhode Island, his parents had been so proud.

Then a lot less proud when he told them he was taking a gap year to work an apprenticeship under Ford. They still weren't really speaking to him, but he was an adult now. They knew he was to make these decisions on his own.

So Dipper had packed his things and found a small rental cabin just about a mile from the Mystery Shack, where he'd be working most days and nights. Mabel was staying with him for the summer, then she'd take the bus back down to UCLA for orientation at the beginning of August.

He had to admit, it was definitely going to be strange not being with his twin. They were rarely apart.

As the iconic Gravity Falls water tower came into view, Dipper sat back and let memories of his friends play through his head. He had been there two summer ago for a week or so, hanging out with Soos and his wife, both of his grunkles, and Mabel. Wendy, a girl he'd gradually become best friends with, had been out on a hunting trip with her father and brothers that week. He really hadn't seen her in about three years.

Not that they had lost touch. They exchanged letters every week, sometimes including photos of cool things that they'd seen, and Dipper would occasionally call her to check up on her. He couldn't do it often, though, because whenever he did, they ended up talking for hours, catching up on things.

Man, he'd missed her. He'd missed them all! Three years ago he had still been about four foot five with noodle arms and a mess of brown hair that refused to lie flat. His hair hadn't changed since then, it was still impossible to deal with. But the rest of him definitely had. He had finally grown into himself, standing slightly over six feet tall now. He was definitely still thin, but his muscles were decently toned from all of the workouts during cross country season. His birthmark was still very prominent on his forehead, and while he did still wear Wendy's hat a lot, he wasn't nearly as insecure about it anymore. Heck, if Grunkle Ford could walk around with six fingers, why couldn't he be confident too?

Mabel, on the other hand, looked completely different. Her previously frizzy brown hair was now straight and hung halfway down her back in one liquid sheet. She still wore her sweaters, something she'd never quite grown out of, but only sometimes. Usually she was in a t-shirt and skirt. She was a few inches shorter than Dipper, and her braces had been taken off years ago, revealing a much straighter and brighter smile.

He ran his fingers over the scar that he had acquired during the fight with Cipher five years before. Everyone had ended up injured in some capacity. Mabel, for instance, had fractured her arm when Cipher had thrown them down in favor of Ford's deal. He had cut his arm deeply while Cipher was chasing them through his domain. He'd gotten it stitched up as soon as he could, but it hadn't quite healed properly, leaving an eight-inch raised pink scar running the length of his bicep.

"Bro, come on!" Mabel yelled excitedly, jolting him out of his thoughts. He looked around and realized that the bus had stopped. He stood, grinning, and slung his trust backpack over his shoulder. It contained his two most recent journals that he was anxious to show Ford, full of ideas and sketches. The two twins stepped off the bus, one after another.

Soos and both Ford and Stan were waving excitedly at them. Ford and Stan still looked alike, just a few years older. Soos had lost a bit of weight, but looked pretty much the same as always in his tuxedo and fez that he'd inherited from Stan when he took charge of the shack.

"Dipper! Mabel!" All three of them yelled excitedly, wrapping the two in a tight group hug.

"Hey, you guys," Dipper grinned, in the middle of all of them.

"Wow, look at you, kid!" Stan stepped back and sized him up. "You're as tall as me!"

"Yeah, I guess so," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't look too bad yourself, Grunkle Stan."

"Are you kidding me? My brother and I are the best looking guys in town," Stan laughed, wrapping an arm around his brother and squeezing, causing Ford's glasses to fly off.

"Get off me, you nut," Ford shoved him good-naturedly before extending a six-fingered hand to Dipper. "Nice to see you again, kid." Dipper shook it.

"…and I can't wait for you to see the portfolio I sent to UCLA," Mabel was babbling to Soos, who was smiling at her good-naturedly.

"You can show it to me tonight, girl dude," Soos patted her shoulder.

"DUDE!" Dipper heard a loud, familiar voice from behind him and was tackled before he could turn around.

"Oof!" he groaned, face-planting in the dirt before craning his neck to see who exactly was sitting on top of him.

An unmistakable pale, freckled face was just a few inches from his, grinning mischievously. Dipper laughed, shoving his best friend off of him, and pulling her up alongside him. She wrapped him in a tight hug, her long red hair sweeping across his face. "Man, look at you! You're taller than me now!"

"Guess you can't call me 'Little Dipper' anymore," he smirked, pulling back and, mimicking her actions five summers ago, switched the hat on his head with the hat on hers before ruffling her hair like she used to do to him.

"Guess not," she laughed, looking him over. Gone was the little boy who had crushed on her all summer, with his skinned knees and puffy blue vest. In his place was a tall, slightly muscular man wearing a red flannel pushed up to his elbows and a pair of jeans ripped at the knee, a fact she swore he was probably unaware of. With his pine tree hat now, he did look a little bit like his old self.

"Wendy!" Mabel yelled, rocketing into the older girl, who laughed with delight. "I missed you so much!"

"We all missed you guys," Ford nodded, unusually sentimental. Dipper grinned at all of them.

Man, it felt good to be back with his family.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Seriously, I can't get over how great you both look," Wendy slung her arms around the twins, winking at Dipper. "Three years changes a lot, huh?"

"Definitely!" Mabel squealed, all but jumping up and down. "Oh, this is going to be the most awesome summer ever! I've got so much to tell you, and-"

"Mabel, you're babbling again," Dipper reminded her with a cool smile. "We just got here. You've got lots of time to talk Wendy's ear off."

"You're right, you're right," she apologized hurriedly. "Sorry, Wendy. I just can't believe we're back! It's just like it was back when we were twelve!"

"Well, not totally the same," Wendy laughed, indicating the changes in the twins' appearances. "Plus, I'm really hoping to avoid another Cipher-induced apocalypse this year if at all possible."

"No promises," Dipper smirked, elbowing her gently in the side. Wendy glanced at him, grinning. He was so different now. The twelve-year-old Dipper wouldn't have been able to be within six inches of her without blushing or stuttering. This man was calm as could be.

The six finally arrived at the Mystery Shack. Dipper was astonished at how great it looked. Soos had clearly been taking his job very seriously. He'd patched up all of the holes in the walls and roof, fixed the letters that had previously been falling off, and added a fresh coat of paint to the doors and windows.

"Wow, Soos!" Mabel cheered, throwing her arms around him again. "It looks so nice!"

"Thanks, girl dude," Soos blushed slightly at the compliment. "Stan didn't leave me in charge for nothin'!"

"How's the workshop doing, Ford?" Dipper asked.

"Pretty good, kid. I put in a few new additions that I think you'll like, but no more multi-dimensional portals," Ford laughed, a fairly rare sight. He seemed to be in a remarkably good mood today.

"Yeah, it's probably best to avoid those for the time being," Dipper chuckled. "I'll be there tomorrow pretty early."

"Sounds great, kid."

"Hey!" Wendy cut in, stepping in between both of them. "Nobody's asked me what I'm doing all summer!"

"Sorry, Wendy," Dipper apologized, punching her lightly in the shoulder. "What are you doing all summer?"

"Still working at the Mystery Shack," she laughed. "Soos promised me a raise if I came back this summer."

"She's the only one who can keep the place organized," Soos laughed, affectionately patting her on the head.

"I seem to recall that she never did much work when she was here last time," Stan said grumpily, making them all laugh.

It was true. Back when she had been fifteen and the twins were thirteen, she didn't get much work done. Not just because of the whole apocalypse thing, but just because the three of them always had so much fun together, whether it was climbing trees in the woods or being chased by demons.

"Stan, come on," Wendy coaxed, giving the old man a hug. "Don't you trust me?"

"Kid, I don't trust you any more than I'd trust Mabel with a bag of Smile Dip," Stan muttered. Dipper snorted.

"Let me show you around, dudes," Soos told them, leading them inside.

"Wow, you still have all of Grunkle Stan's exhibits!" Mabel squealed. "Look, it's the Thigh-clops!"

"I can't believe you kept all this stuff, Soos," Dipper shook his head, still smiling. "Do people seriously still pay to see all this?"

"Nah, dude, not so much for this stuff. More for guided tours into the woods that I've started doing," Soos said, puffing out his chest with pride.

"All this new fancy stuff. We did just fine when I was in charge," Stan grumbled.

"Oh, lay off, Stanley," Ford nudged him. "Soos is doing a wonderful job. I have a bit more work to get done before I turn in. Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Night, Ford," the rest of them chorused. Stan followed his brother inside.

"Hey, Ford?"

"Yeah."

"It's good to have them back, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Stanley. It sure is."

"Honestly? I never really thought about it," Dipper told the two girls as they made their way to his cabin.

"Come on, Dipper. You really never wondered what it would have been like if Cipher had managed to break the protection charm and cause an inter dimensional apocalypse?"

"All right, you got me. I've got about sixty pages on it in one of my journals," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was caught in a lie.

"Dude, is that your place?" Wendy pointed to a small cabin just over the hill, centered in a dense circle of forest.

"Yeah, I think so," he replied with a distant smile. "Man, I can't believe how great it feels to be back here."

"Well, I think it should have a lot more glitter. And pink. But I can get on board," Mabel giggled. "Thanks for letting me stay here all summer, Dip!"

"Sure thing, Mabel," Dipper grinned, throwing an arm around his sister. "Wendy, you're obviously welcome to come over whenever. Spare key's under the doormat."

"Thanks, dude," Wendy smiled kindly. "Do you two want to have movie night? As sort of a welcome home thing?"

Dipper shrugged. "I'm down."

"I actually sort of promised Grunkle Stan I'd hang with him tonight," Mabel winked at Wendy, who gave her a puzzled look. "You two kids have fun, though!" She skipped off back down the road, her rainbow knee-high socks making both of them laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"So, what'd you have in mind?" Dipper asked, taking off the hat and running a hand through his messy hair, exposing the constellation birthmark that he'd worked so hard to hide as a child. Next he pulled off the flannel in favor of the gray t-shirt underneath, since the cabin didn't have any air conditioning.

"Whatever you want, dude. Hey, the scar looks good," Wendy raised her eyebrows, pointing to his arm.

"What? Oh, yeah. It healed pretty well, I guess." He opened his back, rifling through it and inadvertently flexing, and Wendy caught herself staring. She blushed and quickly looked away. "How about Ghostcatchers IV?"

"Ah, that's the worst one," Wendy grinned. "Put it on!"

Dipper had to take a few minutes to figure out how to work the TV, but he finally managed to get the movie up and running. He smiled crookedly, pleased with himself, then jumped onto the bed beside Wendy and made himself comfortable.

"Hey, dude, you remember that time we were having movie night and you ended up laying on my bra?" Wendy laughed, reminiscing.

"Ah, yeah," Dipper shook his head, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck again. "I think that's the highest scream I've ever heard. Hey, what about the time I hit you in the face with a baseball?"

"I told my Dad it was Robbie," she confessed, still grinning. "I didn't want him to squish you."

"Fair enough," he conceded.

"You still know the Lamby Dance?" Wendy asked mischievously.

"WHO WANTS A LAMBY LAMBY LAMBY? I DO, I-" Dipper yelled at the top of his lungs. Wendy interrupted him, grabbing him from behind and putting a hand over his mouth.

"If you get that stuck in my head I will actually kill you," she laughed before letting him go. He elbowed her off of him and settled back into the pillows.

"Hey, you asked," he shrugged. "Shut up, the movie's starting."

All Dipper could see when he opened his eyes was… nothing.

Literally nothing. It wasn't dark. This was the kind of blackness where you couldn't see anything at all, not even your hand. He didn't like it.

"Hello?" he called.

"Oh, Dipper. You should know better by now," he heard. It was an unfamiliar voice, deep and quiet, the kind that makes your stomach uneasy.

"Who are you?" he demanded, jumping up, but quickly realizing there was no floor beneath him. It was like he was just floating. Or falling. Or both.

"You've grown," the voice echoed. "I see Cipher couldn't be bothered to take care of you as instructed."

"Wait… YOU sent Cipher?" Dipper yelled into the endless abyss. "You did that to us?!"

"Time to go, Dipper," the voice answered, avoiding the question. "Don't worry. I'll see you sooner than you think."

"Wait!" Dipper screamed, but he suddenly felt his world spinning, and now he was surely falling. Where, he didn't know.

"Dipper, wake up, man!" Wendy cried, shaking her friend by his shoulders. He'd started screaming a few seconds ago, clearly in the middle of a nightmare. He'd fallen asleep halfway through the movie. "Open your eyes!"

He did, but Wendy immediately regretted it. His eyes flashed a brilliant silver, like liquid mercury. It faded slowly, and Dipper seemed to come back to his old self as it did.

"…Wendy?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry. I must have fallen asleep, huh?"

"Dipper, what the hell happened to you?" she got up in his face, studying his eyes for any remnants of the silver she'd just seen.

"Uh…" Dipper looked taken aback. She was really close to him.

"What were you just dreaming about?" she demanded, not moving any further away.

"Wait, how did you…"

"Your eyes were silver when you opened them," Wendy told him. "Something happened to you. What was it?"

"I just had a nightmare," Dipper shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it. No reason to scare her. He'd talk to Ford about it tomorrow. "It's probably nothing. Maybe you imagined it?"

"Well… I doubt it, but I guess," she muttered, looking down, deep in thought.

"So…" Dipper hesitated. She was literally still an inch from his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that she smelled really good, like cinnamon and cedar. But the logical part of his brain pushed it aside. Now really wasn't the time.

"Oh, sorry," she blushed, finally backing off. Dipper grinned crookedly, amused. Wendy never blushed. Not even the time he'd gone to her house and her dad had shown him and Mabel all of her baby pictures. Even the potty training ones.

"Anyway. Is the movie over already?" he tried changing the subject.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it ended a few minutes ago," Wendy replied, still looking thoughtful. "You know, I guess I should probably get going. I'll see you tomorrow, Little Dipper."

"I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore," Dipper smiled lazily at her, reminding her of a cat stretching out in the sunbeam.

"You know, you don't embarrass as easily anymore," Wendy commented on her way out. "It's very frustrating."

"Yeah, well, things change," she heard him chuckle as she shut the door behind her.

"They certainly do," she muttered to herself, allowing herself just a second to marvel over how quickly the little boy who had been in love with her had grown up. And now it was her turn to think about him the whole way home.

Not that she would ever admit it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hey, Dipper," Ford said huskily as Dipper stepped into the workshop once again.

"Hey, Ford," Dipper replied, looking around. Ford had sure been busy. The walls were covered in journal pages, one after another. "What's all this?"

"Well, I ran out of journal space, and since there's really no need for those journals to be hidden anymore, I thought I'd save us both the trouble," the older man smiled in the same crooked fashion as his nephew. "I thought maybe today you might be able to go out and look for-"

"Actually, Ford, I could use your help with something," Dipper interrupted. "I sort of fell asleep last night and I had this… dream, I guess? I don't really know what to call it. I couldn't see or feel anything, but something was talking to me."

"Something?" Ford raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. This definitely wasn't a person. It was an entity. A dark one. It knew my name, said something about how disappointed it was that Cipher hadn't finished us off… then I woke up."

"And are you sure this wasn't just because you and Wendy were watching horror movies?" Ford asked suspiciously.

"Believe me, Ford. This wasn't a nightmare. It was more like… well, like I was conscious inside my own mind."

"Anything like Cipher's mindscape?" Ford asked, starting to scribble notes on spare pieces of paper he had laying around.

"Sort of, I guess. It had that same general feel to it. But this was a lot more intimidating. Kind of like it was ready to collapse in on me at any moment. Unstable."

"Hmm," Ford muttered, deep in thought. "It's not Cipher. We closed that dimensional tear. This has to be something else. Something new."

"Well, there's one more thing," Dipper confessed, sitting down and running his fingers over his scar the way he tended to do when he got nervous. "Wendy said that when she tried to wake me up… my eyes were silver. It freaked her out pretty bad."

Ford was silent for a few minutes, thinking and running scenarios in his head. "Well, what do you think, Dipper?"

"Well… if this thing is actually inside my mind, and it was able to physically manifest itself in part of my body like that, then I'd say that whatever this is definitely isn't a peaceful spirit. It's also obviously not bound by the same interdimensional limitations that Cipher was, since he couldn't possess the mind unless a deal was made. So this thing is already inside my thoughts and memories. And chances are that it's not leaving without a fight, if it's anything like Cipher was." Dipper rattled off, and Ford was suddenly taken by how much the boy had changed. Here he was, discussing being possessed by an entity like it was nothing, when doing the same just a few years ago would have sent the kid into a full-blown panic. This older Dipper had a much better handle on his emotions and his fear response.

"Well, you've clearly thought a lot about this," Ford said after a moment.

"Yeah. Didn't get much sleep after all that," he admitted.

"Come on, Grunkle Stan, I'm almost done," Mabel begged. "Just a few more minutes!"

"Mabel, I've been sittin' here for hours," Stan adjusted himself in the kitchen chair. "How long does it take to draw an old man?"

"Well, I want to get this one right!" Mabel replied. "It's the first one going up on my wall in my dorm room."

That made Stan smile. "Well, fine," he grumbled. "Just a few more minutes."

Mabel continued sketching. "Hey, Grunkle Stan? You're going to come visit me at UCLA, right?"

"Every month, pumpkin," he replied with a smile. "You're always welcome to come visit me, Ford, and your brother here, too."

"Thanks," Mabel grinned, but it slowly faded. Then she sighed and put down her pencil.

"What is it?" Stan asked, putting a large hand on the top of her head.

"It's just that I've never been so far away from Dipper before," Mabel admitted, looking at the floor. "It's going to be strange. And hard."

Stan thought for a minute. "Yeah, it is hard. For sure. But do you know what? Dipper's a good kid. There won't be a week that goes by where he forgets to call you."

"That's true, I guess," she perked up a little bit. "I'll get used to it eventually. It'll just take some time."

"Well, Mabel, you never really get used to not having your brother around," Stan told her. "It'll always feel like he's missing. But you'll be able to see him anytime you want."

"So, we've ruled out Cipher and any semblance of his mindscape," Dipper counted off on his fingers. "Where does that leave us?"

"Honestly, kid? I have no idea," Ford popped his knuckles, poring over page after page laid out in front of him. "This really doesn't sound like anything we've ever come across before."

"I'll make sure to keep my journal by my bed tonight, so if it happens again I can sketch it out," Dipper replied, patting his blue canvas backpack that was propped near the metal door to the lab. "I should probably get going. It's getting to be afternoon and I promised Wendy I'd grab lunch with her at the diner, if that's okay."

"Yeah, no problem," the old man replied, spreading his fingers and studying them, the way he always did when he was deep in thought. "Come on back when you're done."

Dipper trudged up the path to the diner, still thinking about his bizarre dream. He didn't like the way it had made him feel. When he'd woken up finally, all he'd wanted to do was freak out. But he couldn't, not with Wendy there. He didn't want to scare he any more than he already had.

"Hey, man!" he heard, and turned to see Wendy rushing up the path towards him. She quickly caught up with him, considering her legs were about a mile long, and punched him in the shoulder. "How's it hangin'?

"Not bad," he grinned sheepishly at her. "What'd you do all day?"

"Oh, just worked for minimum wage at some lame tourist trap," she complained good-naturedly. "Just kidding. Soos actually gave me a raise this year and business isn't as slow as it was back then."

"Man, I sort of miss those days," Dipper turned his face up towards the sun and smiled fondly. "I'm sure you don't, though. Having two lame-ass twelve year olds hanging on to your every move can't be fun."

"Are you kidding? You guys were my best friends that summer, and pretty much since then," Wendy laughed, smacking his shoulder. "I've missed you a lot, Dipstick. I meant what I said when you left that first summer. You mean a lot to me, man."

"You mean a lot to me too," he replied, slinging an arm around her shoulder, and she felt a flutter in her stomach. Which pissed her off. She didn't ever really have feelings. Living with four giant lumberjacks had pretty much erased that side of her when she was little.

But being with Dipper was different. In a way she wasn't sure she didn't like.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"So you really never got back together with Robbie? After everything?" Dipper asked, an amused smile on his face as he pushed his plate back. He'd been starving and had practically inhaled his BLT. Wendy was only about halfway done with her burger.

"Nah. He was about as deep as Stan's pockets. I wanted someone better than that," she replied, messing around with the straw in her drink. "Anyway, what about you? You've got that whole mysterious thing going on, I bet the girls back home love that," she teased, but she really did want to know if he was seeing anybody.

"You know, a lot of them did," Dipper chuckled. "And that's not me being a blowhard, that's just fact. I had my fair share of girls chase after me. I guess I'm just… not really a fan of being chased."

"I get that," Wendy nodded. "Did you ever think about asking me out?"

"Uh… what do you mean?" Dipper asked, taken aback.

"Well, come on, dude. It wasn't really a secret that you had a thing for me back when you were thirteen," she continued casually, but her stomach was in knots. What the hell had prompted her to say that? "Did you ever think about asking me again when you got older?"

"Wow. Honestly? Not once I got past about fifteen," Dipper admitted, and Wendy deflated a little bit on the inside, but she didn't let it show. "I guess I figured you'd already met someone else. And besides, once I got to that age, I started to really understand why the age difference would have been a problem. And I sort of started to fall in love with paranormal investigation, so that took up most of my thoughts, anyway."

"Oh. Well, I mean, that's good. It would suck if you'd been hung up on me all these years," Wendy forced a smile, but Dipper could tell that something behind it wasn't genuine. Did she look… disappointed?

Nah. There was no way. He'd probably had his head stuck in his journal for too long.

"I wasn't very subtle back then, was I?" Dipper rubbed the back of his neck.

"Dude, you were about as subtle Lil Gideon," Wendy laughed, back to normal. Maybe he'd imagined it. "I didn't mind, though. It was pretty flattering."

"Oh, don't start," Dipper chuckled, sitting back in the booth. "I can't believe how much Gravity Falls looks the same. It's like time froze when I left three years ago."

"Yeah, things don't move very fast around here," Wendy tore her napkin in half, then in half again. "A couple of years ago I thought about moving somewhere a little less sleepy."

"What kept you here?"

"Well, I mean, I grew up here. Leaving would be like cutting off a hand or something," she replied, looking out the window at the cliffs. "I feel like anywhere else would be awesome, but this is the only home I'll ever have."

"That's why I came back," he nodded. "California really just wasn't home anymore. My parents were pretty upset when I told them I was taking a gap year to come study under Ford."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They haven't really spoken to me since. My dad says I'm wasting my intelligence, but I like to think I'm using it in a different way." Dipper used his finger to trace letters in a small pile of salt on the table. "It sort of sucks, but at least I've got Mabel, Ford and Stan. They're family."

"God. I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me in your last letter?" Wendy asked, frowning.

Dipper shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I don't know. I guess I didn't want you to worry about me. Nothing either of us can do about it anyway."

"Hey, they'll come around," she assured him, putting her hand overtop of his and squeezing.

Dipper stared at her for a second, then smiled. "Thanks, Wendy."

"Hey, come on," Wendy urged on the way home, grabbing Dipper's hand and pulling him towards the path that led up to their favorite overlook. "Let's go check it out for a minute!"

Dipper shrugged and smiled. "Okay. I want to see if it looks any different now."

They made their way up to one of the tallest cliffs in Gravity Falls. It wasn't a far walk, but man, was it worth it. The afternoon sun glinted off of the leaves, making them look silvery.

The two sat down next to each other. Dipper stretched out on the grass, putting his arms behind his head and looking up at the few clouds passing above. Wendy was on his right, hugging her legs up towards her chest.

"Wow. It really hasn't changed at all, has it?" Dipper asked quietly.

"Nope. I love it up here. Never brought anyone else up here," she replied. "Hey, has your scar always looked like that?"

"Like what?"

"It looks silver," she brushed her fingers over it, looking puzzled. Dipper froze as she touched him. "Oh, sorry," she breathed, pulling back like her hand was on fire.

"It's all right. I think it's just the sun," Dipper reassured her, studying his scar. But now that she mentioned it, it did look silver. Not the whole thing, though, just the bottom inch. It was like the silvery color was creeping up his arm. He shrugged and turned back to the view. "How's your dad doing?"

"Same as always," Wendy smiled. "Works too hard and gets mad when I don't make dinner. My brothers are all the same."

"Yeah, Mabel hasn't really changed much since last time we were here. Still throwing glitter everywhere and won't leave me alone," Dipper chuckled. "Then again, I won't leave her alone either."

"You think it'll be weird, not having her around all the time?"

"Yeah, probably," he smiled. "I mean, we haven't been separated…well, ever. But she's going to do such incredible things there. How could she not go?"

Wendy looked at her friend, the afternoon sun glinting off of his face, and smiled warmly. He noticed her staring and caught her gaze, smiling back in a way that made her feel like her entire body was turning to jello.

He noticed a blush creeping up her face and slightly enjoyed it. This was a girl who kept her cool in literally every situation ever, and he was sort of enjoying making her squirm a bit.

"I just can't get over how much you've grown up," she murmured, tilting her head. "I just keep thinking of you as the little 12 year old running around Gravity Falls, attracting monsters everywhere he went."

"And saving the world," Dipper corrected, grinning.

"Yeah, there's that," Wendy laughed. She scooted backwards, suddenly very aware of how close the two of them were. Dipper didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't really care. And why should he? The two of them had pretty much been joined at the hip when they were younger. Nothing had changed since then, really.

"Well, as much fun as this has been, I'd probably better get back," Dipper pushed himself up and put his hands in his pockets. "Ford's going to wonder where I am. You coming?"

"Actually, I think I'll stay for a few more minutes," Wendy shrugged. "I'm pretty happy where I am."

"Okay. I'll see you later." He waved, heading back down the path. The walk felt longer on the way back, giving Dipper a lot of time to think about, well, everything. Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers over the scar on his bicep and realized that it was cold. Not like the rest of his skin. It was like one small bit of ice water running through his arm. When he looked at it in confusion, he could very clearly see that it hadn't been the sunlight.

The bolt of silver was slowly creeping up the length of his scar.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Waddles, come on!" Mabel cried. The pig, now quite a bit older, had decided that Mabel's pillow was now his new home. He'd gotten too big for Mabel to pick up in the past few years. "I'm exhausted. Can't you sleep on Dipper's bed?"

"If he does, you're going to wake up in the morning and find bacon for breakfast," Dipper promised, opening the door and tossing his backpack to the side of it. "I'm about to fall over asleep. Ford's working on about ten different projects at the same time, which means that I'm working on ten different projects at the same time."

"Wendy told me she saw you earlier," Mabel grinned knowingly. "Are you still hot for her?"

"You're gross," Dipper exclaimed, flopping back on his bed, the wooden slats underneath it groaning in protest. "How'd you know where I was?"

"She and I were texting earlier. I needed her permission to use a sketch I did of her for a show coming up," Mabel shrugged.

"You drew Wendy? Can I see?"

"Yeah, but you can't keep it," she sang, nudging him before pulling her art portfolio onto her lap. She slid her hand inside and brought out a small pile of colored sketches.

"Holy crap, Mabel," Dipper whispered, fanning the pages out and kneeling over them. A sea of familiar people stared back at him, eerily realistic. "Is that Ford?"

"Yeah, that one's Ford, and this one's Stan," Mabel replied, shuffling through the drawings. "There's one of them in here together… oh! Here it is."

The two old twin brothers were in recliners facing the TV as usual, but they weren't staring at some movie the way they normally did. Instead, they were talking, laughing with each other, their eyes with a remarkably lifelike sparkle in them. Dipper knew that look. It was the same look Ford got when he found something new, or that Stan got when one of the twins came up with a new Mystery Shack exhibit. That look was pride.

"Found it!" Mabel exclaimed, holding up the sketch triumphantly and handing it to Dipper. He took it carefully and studied it.

The girl that had long been his best friend had changed remarkably in the past couple of years, and he hadn't really noticed it until now. Her hair was the same length, but she had taken off her hat in the sketch so that it shone copper in the afternoon sun. She was leaning up against a tree, her trademark axe buried in the ground next to her, smirking as if to say, _I know something you don't._ That was the smile she had on her face every time Dipper pictured her. She hadn't gotten any taller, thank goodness, because she was already about five foot ten and she was particularly self-conscious of her height. She'd finally gotten a pair of jeans without holes in them, although Dipper was willing to bet that wouldn't last longer than two more weeks. Her boots were the same, mud-stained and beat up.

She was the same girl, but she really wasn't a girl at all any more. She'd grown up, just as much as he had.

"Wow, Mabel. This is…" Dipper couldn't find the words to explain himself.

"That one definitely took me the longest. She looks so different now, doesn't she?" Mabel asked, studying the drawing for any little imperfections.

"I don't know. She still seems like the same old Wendy," Dipper shrugged. "In the best possible way, I mean."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mabel grinned, noticing her twin's wistful expression as he took in the sketch of his childhood crush. She couldn't help it, she had always been a romantic. And if her brother and his best friend in the whole wide world (besides her, of course!) got together, it would be the absolute perfect way to say goodbye to Gravity Falls, knowing that he had someone to keep him in line. And who better than an axe-wielding badass who could keep up with him in her sleep? "Don't change the subject, bro bro. I know you and Wendy were on a date today!"

"Mabel, your definition of a date is going literally anywhere with literally anyone," Dipper rolled his eyes, gently placing the sketch of Wendy back in the folder and jumping back up onto his bed.

"While that is true, the anyone you went anywhere with happens to be your soul mate," Mabel wheedled, plopping down next to him and poking his side.

"Stop," Dipper laughed, shoving her hands away. "Come on. Wendy's not my soul mate. She's my best friend. There's a big difference."

"Maybe not," Mabel smiled, getting up and heading into the bathroom. It was getting pretty late, and she was tired from the day's events.

"You need a hobby," Dipper called after her before rolling over on his left side. He couldn't help smiling to himself, though.

Wouldn't it be funny if she were right?

The sun broke through the slats in the cabin walls early that morning, shining in Mabel's eyes and waking her up. Normally, waking up so early would make her grumpy and give her a headache for the rest of the day, but in Gravity Falls it just felt like something that you had to do so that you didn't miss out.

She rolled over, pushing her tangled mass of brown hair out of her face. "Dipper, get up," she whisper-yelled, kicking the leg of his bed.

He jumped, sitting up too fast. Mabel noticed that his eyes looked… almost silver in the morning light. "Holy crap," he gasped, grabbing the edge of the mattress for support, clutching it so tightly the his knuckles turned white. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Mabel asked, starting to get a little concerned. Dipper didn't really scare easily, so whatever it was must have a major spook factor. "Dipper, there's nothing here."

"You don't…" he sat for a minute, his eyes wide with terror, looking straight ahead. Suddenly, he seemed to snap out of it, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head to clear it. "God. Sorry, Mabel."

"Dipper, what was that?" Mabel asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What'd you see?"

"Nothing. I was probably just having a nightmare. It's fine," he assured her, but his smile didn't really reach his eyes and Mabel knew her brother well enough to know that something was definitely off.

" _Cipher's not the only one with a mindscape, you know. Where do you think his comes from?" The invisible entity in front of Dipper spread its arms out wide, displaying its domain. Somehow, Dipper knew how it was moving, even though he couldn't see it. "That imbecile didn't know how to manipulate the mindscape like I do, though. You have no idea how many possibilities there are here."_

 _"So if you're so much more powerful than Cipher, why'd you send him to open the rift instead of doing it yourself?" Dipper asked, knowing it would probably be wise to keep his mouth shut but not caring._

 _"Why does anyone have lackeys? I didn't feel like it. I thought you idiots were weak enough that he would be able to take care of you. Cipher neglected to tell me about the zodiac, though. If I'd known about that, I would have gone myself. Imagine, someone like him being defeated by something as simple as a chalk drawing!"_

 _"So the zodiac isn't much of a concern for you, then?" Dipper asked, unconsciously moving his hand to his left side, directly under his ribs, where the zodiac had been burned into his skin by Cipher all those years ago. Ford had told him that it was Cipher's way of marking them, so he knew where to look when he came back. If he ever did._

 _"Unfortunately for you, no, it's not," the entity let out a high-pitched giggle. "No, I don't have many weaknesses. And certainly none that you would be capable of exploiting. But you, Dipper Pines, you have more weaknesses than you know. But I know them. Inside and out."_

 _"Enlighten me," Dipper crossed his legs. Well, he thought he did. He still really couldn't tell what his body was doing._

 _"No, I won't be doing that," the entity replied. "You see, the second a human knows all their weaknesses, that's when they become their strongest. But it's just not possible. The human brain doesn't have the capacity to fully understand its own weaknesses."_

 _"Maybe I'm not as weak as you think I am," Dipper said defiantly._

 _The entity shifted, and Dipper felt it surround him. "But would you bet your life on it?" it whispered in both of his ears, and a grisly scene flashed before him. Everyone he loved. Ford, Stanley, Mabel… Wendy. All of them, lying around the frame of a zodiac drawn in what looked like human blood. Somehow, he knew that they were dead. The life had been pulled from them._

 _"What did you do?" he screamed, but every step he took towards them, they got ten steps further away. "No!"_

 _"You see, Dipper? You're not nearly strong enough for any of this. Oh, you'll see," it sang, before the scene blurred and Dipper was thrown from the dream._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"It was the same… what did you refer to it as?" Ford asked, furiously scribbling notes on a stray piece of paper.

"Entity. I don't really know how else to describe it. It's not a person… it's more of a thing."

"And it was talking about Cipher's mindscape?"

"Well, Cipher's mindscape and its own. Apparently its mindscape was a much bigger, more threatening version of Cipher's. It said something about Cipher not using it as well as it could," Dipper indicated, the nightmare still fresh in his mind. "And it knew about the zodiac."

"Your mark? Does it look any different?" Ford asked, and Dipper pulled up his shirt enough to reveal the scar-like tattoo there.

"No, it hasn't changed much since I got it," he replied. "You think there's any chance this… thing can see me the same way Cipher can using the mark?"

"Honestly, Dipper, I don't know," Ford shrugged, putting down the pen, which was very unlike him. Ford never admitted that he didn't know something. "I've never heard of anything like this. I thought the first dream might have been random, but this is too much of a coincidence. Something's definitely watching you."

"Look at this," Dipper said suddenly, pushing up his sleeve enough that Ford could see the raised scar on his bicep. It was almost half silver now, and the bottom wasn't nearly as opaque as it had been yesterday. The color had solidified into a mercury color. "It started a few days ago. I think maybe the two are linked."

"I think it would be strange if they weren't," Ford admitted, touching his nephew's scar. It was much colder than normal body temperature. Like his scar was slowly turning to silvery ice. "Can you feel that?"

"Yeah, it feels normal, but it keeps getting more silver and a lot colder," Dipper told him. It felt good to let someone else know what was going on. Made it not nearly as scary.

"Well, I'm not really sure what to say here, except that it'll be interesting to see what happens," Ford's shoulders drooped. "Sorry I don't have better advice, kid."

"It's not your fault," Dipper assured him. "I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be back in a little bit."

Normally, Ford would have gotten on him for slacking off, but he could tell that this was really getting to the kid. And he didn't blame him. It scared him, just thinking about an entity that was that much smarter than Cipher.

In hindsight, he definitely shouldn't have laid down, propped up against the giant tree in the warm sun. Sleeping seemed like a bad idea lately. But he really couldn't help himself. It felt like he hadn't slept a wink all last night.

And of course, the second he closed his eyes, he was back in the void. The mindscape, he guessed.

It was empty this time. No entity to mock him. Except for one person, off in the distance, a familiar redhead.

 _"Wendy!" he called, starting to move towards her, but when she turned, he could tell something was horribly wrong._

 _"Dipper… please…" she choked, blood pooling from the corner of her mouth. She fell to her knees, her already pale skin almost translucent._

 _"No!" he cried, running towards her, but his legs were like cement. He couldn't go anywhere._

 _"Do… something…" she whispered, falling to her side and going mostly limp. "Please…"_

 _"Wendy! No!" He was screaming now, doing everything he could, but he just couldn't move. "No no no!"_

 _"This is… your… fault…" she accused, her eyes closing for the final time._

 _"NO! Come back!" he screamed, but he felt the familiar sensation of being thrown from his own consciousness._

"Dipper, come on, dude!" he heard, and he felt himself being shaken violently. "You're scaring me!"

His eyes finally cleared, and he could see Wendy, alive and well, her axe next to her. She wore a panicked expression on her face. She must have come across him on her way home for the day.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, grabbing her in a bear hug and pulling her off balance so that she somehow ended up halfway in his lap. "You're okay. Thank God."

"Dipper, I'm fine. What are you doing?" she made a halfhearted attempt to get up, but quickly realized that Dipper was a lot stronger than her and he clearly didn't want her going anywhere.

"I thought you were dead," he set his jaw, still clutching her to him. "Thank God you're okay."

"Dude, I'm okay," she assured him, just sitting and letting him hug her. She rested her cheek against his broad chest and closed her eyes in spite of herself. "Why'd you think I was dead?"

"I had another…nightmare," he admitted, resting his chin on top of her head. "Just don't go anywhere, okay? I thought I lost my best friend."

"Come on, man. You're never going to lose me. I'm going to outlive you by thirty years," she teased, but she felt really warm sitting there in his arms. It really wasn't a bad feeling. A new one, sure, but not bad at all.

"Okay, you're right. Sorry," he apologized, letting her go. She was surprised to realize that she was a little disappointed, but she didn't let it show. She pushed herself up and offered him a hand. "Thanks."

"Of course, dude," she grinned, picking up her axe. "But you know I'm never going to let you live that one down."

"Bring it on," he smirked, stretching his arms over his head.

"Seriously, it's so frustrating. How come you don't embarrass like you did when you were twelve?" she groaned, tilting her head back.

"Nothing embarrassing about hugging your best friend," Dipper shrugged.

"Guess you're right," Wendy sighed.

Then why did she feel like her stomach was inside out?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Stan, I'm going down to the grocery store, you're out of pretty much everything," Mabel called upstairs.

"There's canned soup in the cabinet," Stan's voice echoed back down. "That's something."

"I'm surprised you two haven't starved to death yet," Mabel muttered good-naturedly on her way out the door.

The walk to the grocery store wasn't too long, but it was really hot outside today. Mabel quickly found that the flannel she was wearing was way too warm, so she shrugged it off and tied it around her waist, continuing on in a white tank top, a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and her flip flops. She tied her long auburn hair up into a ponytail to keep it off her neck.

She was lost in thought as she walked through an old, abandoned parking lot next to the store. She felt someone slam into her and she lost her balance, pitching backwards and landing on her hands and her butt.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, looking up, but it was too hard to see who it was in the sun.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," a male voice said, and quickly pulled her up off the asphalt like she weighed almost nothing. "I was running and I didn't see you! Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just scratched up," Mabel shrugged. "Do you always run with your eyes closed?"

"Only when it's two thousand degrees out," the man laughed, and Mabel's eyes finally adjusted so that she was able to get a good look at him. He was really well built, with prominent arm and leg muscles. He had tan skin and he looked like he spent a lot of his time outside. His sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and he had a beard of the same color. The thing that really got Mabel, though, were his eyes. They were the most brilliant green she'd ever seen, like emeralds.

"Yeah, I really think if it got much hotter out here the streetlamps would start to melt," Mabel agreed, doing her absolute best not to blush.

"I'm Beckett," he said, introducing himself, and Mabel noticed that he had a bit of a southern accent, which made her like him even more. "I'm here for the summer helping my dad at his auto place."

"I'm Mabel," she grinned, shaking his hand. "I'm just here until I go to college for the fall."

"Oh, that's neat. Which school?"

"UC Berkely," she said shyly.

"Hey, that's funny. I'm at UC San Francisco right across I-80," he grinned back.

"Well, I guess that's one person I'll know in California," Mabel smiled. She had never been very good at flirting, but what the hell. It was worth a shot.

"I'm a good person to know," Beckett smirked, and Mabel froze. Was he flirting back? "Hey, I was thinking of going to the diner tonight to grab a burger. I think there's a band playing. Want to go?"

"Uh… yes. Yes I would," Mabel agreed, her insides knotting up and butterflies exploding in her stomach. "I'll meet you back here around eight?"

"Eight it is," he grinned, putting his earbuds back in. "See you then, Mabel of Berkely."

"See you," she whispered as he ran off. She hadn't had a date in a really long time, just because the kinds of guys that were usually interested in her were total douches.

The grocery store would have to wait. She had a date to get ready for. She quickly jogged off in the direction she came from, back to the Mystery Shack.

"Only you could literally just walk out into the street and get a date," Dipper laughed, laying back on his bed and tossing a rubber-band ball in the air. "Who even is this guy?"

"He said his name's Beckett, and he's visiting for the summer just like me," Mabel called from the bathroom. Even from that far away Dipper could hear the excitement in her voice. Mabel was really careful about who she dated, and this was definitely unlike her.

"Well, just make sure to keep your phone on and call me if he turns out to be a serial killer," Dipper cautioned, half-joking but half-serious. "I'll probably be here all night."

"What, no movie night with Wendy?" Mabel teased, emerging. "Okay, how does this look?" She had ditched her usual skirt and t-shirt for a low-cut, glittery tank top and a pair of jean cutoffs. Her toes were painted and she wore a pair of sandals to match the shirt. She'd straightened her hair, she wore her favorite half-moon necklace, and her makeup was pretty minimal.

"Two thumbs up," Dipper indicated. "And no, no movie night with Wendy. I haven't been sleeping very well and I've got some extra work to catch up on for Ford. She's probably busy tonight, anyway."

"Dude, you need to figure out what's causing these nightmares. Otherwise you're going to go insane," Mabel told him. "I gotta go. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

"Don't do anything stupid!" Dipper called after her, and she waved him off as she closed the door. He sighed and pushed himself back down onto the floor, where pages and pages of information surrounded him. He'd lied to his sister. Ford hadn't given him any work to finish. These were pages he had taken from the lab, anything he thought bore any sort of resemblance to the entity he'd been seeing in his sleep. There were pages on Cipher's Mark, the same mark that was emblazoned on his side, on Mabel's calf, Ford's right palm, and Stan's left shoulder blade. There was a small stack of papers on interdimensional rifts, on the mindscape, and on Axolotl.

Before he knew it, two hours had passed, he had a giant headache, and was still none the wiser on what this thing was. So he did what he always did when something stumped him. He pulled his (third) journal out of his bag and flipped to the next empty page. He started drawing furiously, writing down his dreams in great detail and sketching the scenes he had been shown by the entity. He managed to fill six pages, and he was only about halfway done when someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Christ!" he yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin. He whipped around to see a familiar redhead grinning at him.

"Ah, that'll never get old," Wendy laughed, plopping down beside him. "What's all this stuff?"

"Just…uh…just some extra work Ford asked me to look over," Dipper tried, starting to gather everything up, but she was too quick for him.

"All this stuff seems like old news, man. Cipher hasn't shown his face around here in five years. And why is this page labeled "Cipher's Mark"? I thought that was called the zodiac."

"Well…yeah." Dipper put the papers he was holding down. Hell, if he could trust anyone, it was probably her. "They're technically the same thing. It's only called Cipher's Mark when it's…ah…burned into your skin."

"Wait, are you for real, dude?" Wendy's eyes widened. "I thought that thing was just a souvenir of our adventures that summer. You're telling me my awesome tattoo actually means something?"

Dipper's stomach dropped. Surely they couldn't be talking about the same thing. "Wendy, what are you talking about?"

"It popped up a few days after Cipher turned me into a wall decoration that summer. I didn't think it really meant anything, otherwise I would have had Ford look at it. I thought it was, like, a protection symbol or something, since that's how you defeated Bill."

Wendy pulled her long red hair up to reveal a small Cipher's Mark on the very base of her neck. It was about half the size of Dipper's, around the same size as Ford's. Like everyone else's, it was black, but flashed gold in the sunlight.

"Oh, no," Dipper breathed, running his fingers over it lightly. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

She noticed the change in his tone of voice and narrowed her eyes. "Dude, I didn't think it was anything major. Chill."

"No, Wendy, I'm not going to chill. Cipher marked you, the same way he marked the rest of us. You know that means he can see everything you're doing from his dimension, and if he ever comes back? We're going to be the first ones he comes after," Dipper pointed out, sounding somewhere between frustrated and upset with her.

"What, you think I can't handle Dorito Dude?" Wendy stood, her guard up now. "I'm a big girl, Dipper. Besides, you have it too."

"I don't care about me!" Dipper yelled, stunning both of them into silence. Wendy stared at him with big eyes, and he sighed. "It's not me I care about. It's everyone else. Mabel, Ford, Stan… now you. I can't lose any of you."

"Dipper, Cipher isn't coming anywhere near this dimension again for a long, long time. You're not going to lose any of us," Wendy assured him, squeezing his arm. "And so what if he's watching me? All that proves is that he's a giant perv."

Dipper snorted in spite of himself. Leave it to her to make him laugh no matter what. "Okay, yeah. This isn't really homework. I'm trying to figure out what all these nightmares mean."

"You're still having them?" Wendy looked concerned. "Dude, you're going to lose it if you don't sleep like a normal person."

"Pretty sure I've long past lost it," Dipper grinned at her before gathering up the rest of the pages. "I'll figure it out. It's just frustrating. It isn't like anything I've ever come across before, so I've got nothing to compare it to."

Wendy sat back down, a look of determination on her face. "Well, then, we'd better start hauling ass if we want to figure this out."

"We?"

"Dude, you can't tell me something new and expect me not to go after it," she smirked at him. "So tell me about the nightmares."

Dipper hesitated for a moment, then started to recount his dreams to her.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Wendy was silent for a while. She had been writing furiously while Dipper had described his nightmares to her, and the second she was done, she put down her pen and looked at the drawings like they were about to bite her.

"Sorry. I know they're pretty dark," Dipper said, staring at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"This stuff…this isn't stuff that your mind could just come up with. Something else has got to be doing this," Wendy thought hard, her forehead wrinkling as she did. Dipper couldn't help but think she was kind of cute when the did that.

"That's what Ford and I were thinking when we were tossing is around earlier. I called it an entity. It's not a person, that's for sure, and it's definitely not Cipher."

"Dipper, you aren't going to be able to handle this for much longer," Wendy warned him, looking directly into his eyes. "Thoughts like this…they can really mess up a person's mind. You need to be careful."

Dipper considered this. "That's probably true. But I can't keep it from happening if I don't even know what's causing it."

"It's not Cipher. It sounds like this…thing considers itself as Cipher's guardian or boss, maybe. Or just something that has a lot more power than Cipher ever did. They obviously know each other," she replied, going back to her pages and scribbling. "It sort of sounds like what you're talking about is a broader version of the mindscape."

"That's what it told me. It said that it was much more capable of manipulating the mindscape than Cipher was. And it said something about sending Cipher to take care of us." Dipper scooted closer to her, peering over her shoulder so he could see everything she was writing. "And that the zodiac wasn't a concern to it."

"I can't imagine it would be. But if Cipher marked us with it, it's got to mean something. You said that it's a way for Cipher to keep tabs on us? Maybe this entity's using it, too."

"Wow. Why didn't I think of that?" Dipper's face blanched. "Then that means it's seeing all of you guys, too."

"Yeah, maybe, Dipper," Wendy shrugged. "But you really don't need to be thinking about that right now. You need to sleep, man."

Dipper looked back down at the floor.

"Dipper?"

"I can't keep doing this," Dipper breathed heavily. "This thing is after you now, too. I have to go, I have to get back to Ford's lab and try and figure this out." He stood quickly and headed for the door, but before he could open it, Wendy pounced on his back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his right arm.

"Dipper Pines, you get your ass back over there," she said firmly.

"Wendy, stop. Please. I have to figure out how to stop this," Dipper begged.

"You aren't the only person in this town who knows their way around some weird shit, you know," Wendy replied. "It's not a bad thing to lean on other people."

"I think you're leaning on me," he groaned, trying to shove her off, but she was a lot stronger than she looked. "I just can't sit here and wait for this thing to come kill us all."

"I didn't know this place did live music!" Mabel yelled to be heard over the country song. "I love country!"

"Best kind of music there is," Beckett replied with a smug little smile on his face. "Wanna dance?"

"You're damn right I do," Mabel laughed, and Beckett grabbed her hands and swung her in a circle.

They must have danced for hours, because by the time they got tired, the band was packing up and the restaurant was getting ready to close. The two of them sat down on the barstools, laughing and sweating profusely.

"So I've gotta ask. Were you around that one summer when all that crazy stuff happened?" Beckett asked, pushing a small pile of salt around the bar table.

"Which one?" Mabel chuckled. "You mean five years ago when Cipher tore a hole in our dimension?"

"Okay, wait. Back up a sec. All I knew was that a bunch of strange crap happened that summer. You know what happened?"

"It's a long story," Mabel smiled up at him. "Maybe we should find somewhere that's not closing."

 _"Wendy. Finally I've gotten through to you."_

 _"Wha- what's going on?" Wendy felt like ice water was running through her veins. She couldn't see anything at all, she couldn't feel her body, and it made her really uneasy that she couldn't see who was speaking to her._

 _"You know me already. Don't lie. You remember the time we met."_

 _"You're… you're the thing that's been messing with Dipper's dreams? Why?"_

 _"Not just his dreams. Ford and Stan's, too. Mabel's probably next. I just find it…charming to visit the minds of the people that intrigue me most," the thing chuckled. "But I find it interesting that he's the first one you mentioned. Why do you think that is?"_

 _"Dipper's my best friend, and you're destroying his mind," Wendy yelled. "Why wouldn't I?"_

 _"No, darling, I don't think that's the reason. I think perhaps there's another reason."_

 _"There's no other reason. Leave me alone." Wendy did her best to turn her back to the thing, but she couldn't feel which way her body was moving._

 _"Oh, you're more stubborn than I originally thought. Breaking you is going to be fun, Wendy. Now go on back to the real world. I'll see you sooner than you think."_

Wendy gasped as she jolted from the mindscape back into the real world. A sick feeling of dread settled in her stomach.

It had found her, too.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dipper had just drifted off to sleep. A dreamless sleep, too, for the first time in a week. He was so exhausted, he felt like his body was going to fall apart.

And then he heard a thump.

It was right outside the cabin door. Usually he would have just ignored it, seeing as it was probably just a bear or a squirrel or something. Or maybe it was Mabel getting back from her date. But then it thumped again, and once more.

With all the creepy stuff that was going on, he really couldn't afford to take chances. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes, kicked the blanket off of him, pulled on his sweatpants, and looked around for some sort of weapon. He spotted a baseball bat in the corner of the room that the previous owners had probably left there and grabbed it, gripping it tightly.

Whatever was out on his front porch made some sort of sniffing noise.

Dipper kicked open the door, bat in hand. "Who's there?" he yelled loudly, hoping to scare off whatever was out there.

And almost took Wendy's head off with the baseball bat.

"Jesus, Dipper," she gasped. Her eyes were red, she was wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and a pair of men's boxer shorts, and she was shaking. It didn't help that it had started to rain.

"Wendy, you scared the crap out of me," Dipper breathed, putting the bat down beside the door. "What are you doing?"

"I-I'm sorry," she trembled. "I was trying to decide whether or not to wake you up and then it started raining and…" Tears started to drip down her face, which completely stunned Dipper. He didn't think he had seen her cry once in the six years he had known her.

"Hey, what is it?" Dipper folded her in his arms and held her tightly. She breathed in quickly, short gasps, trying to catch her breath. "It's late. You shouldn't be hanging around out here."

"I know," she inhaled, pulling back and swiping furiously at her eyes with her sleeve. "Dipper, that thing in your nightmares… I think it might have found me."

Dipper froze, uncertain of what to do next.

"It woke me up and it really scared me. Otherwise I wouldn't have come over here," she continued. "But it was talking to me, and I've never been in the mindscape before. I mean, I knew what it was from all the notes you've showed me. But I've never…"

"I don't blame you," Dipper muttered. "It scared me too."

"I just thought you'd want to know. I'll be fine, I promise," she assured him, sniffing and backing away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Dipper repeated, watching her retreat into the pouring rain. His mind was swirling. The only reason he'd had such a great night, such a wonderful dreamless sleep, was because whatever was after him had left his mind for the night in favor of Wendy.

He went back inside and sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face. He had to figure out a way to stop this thing.

"It's so late," Mabel giggled. "I don't think I've ever stayed up long enough to see 2 am!"

"I usually don't," Beckett agreed with a crooked smile. The two of them were sitting on the ground overlooking the cliffs, watching fireflies dance throughout the canyon. "But I gotta admit, Mabel, you're a pretty interesting girl."

Mabel blushed, pushing her auburn hair behind her ear. "I know. I mean- a lot of people tell me that."

"You staying in town the rest of the summer?" he asked, catching a stray firefly in his hands and letting it go again.

"Yeah, until school starts, I think. I'm pretty nervous to leave. Cause I have a twin brother here, you know, and we've always been sort of attached at the hip."

"I don't blame you there," he replied. "At least the bus station's real close to both campuses. You can come back up here anytime you want to."

Mabel grinned at this. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Hey, maybe having you around isn't so bad."

"Maybe not," Beckett smirked at her. "We should probably head on home. My dad's going to come looking for me if I'm out here much longer. And Lord knows we don't want him to do that." He stood and held out his hand to pull her up.

"Yeah, Stan's going to get worried. If he's even awake," Mabel giggled, grasping his hand and pulling herself up. She blushed when he didn't let go of her hand, leading her back down the path towards Dipper's place.

They walked mostly in silence, just enjoying the cool evening breeze and each other's company.

When they finally got up to the porch, both of them blushed furiously.

"Well… goodnight, Mabel," Beckett murmured, awkwardly reaching out a hand for a handshake.

Mabel giggled at the gesture, then leaned in and quickly kissed him on the cheek, making him blush even deeper. "Night, Beckett. See you tomorrow."

"Uh… yeah. Tomorrow," he grinned, looking dazed. Mabel giggled again and slipped in through the cabin door.

"You're still awake?" Mabel asked, trying to keep the smile off her face. Dipper would be able to read her like a book. "I thought you would have gone to bed hours ago."

"You clearly had a good time," Dipper gave a half smile but didn't look her in the eye.

"Dammit! How do you do that?" Mabel cursed, tossing her purse and sweater across the room.

"Twin ESP. Hey, Mabel, have you been having any nightmares lately?" Dipper asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Nightmares? What kind of nightmares?" Mabel asked, flopping down on her bed, still reeling from her date. "I haven't really been having any dreams lately."

"Uh… nothing specific," he replied. No reason to freak her out just yet. "Will you let me know if you do? I'm after something, I think."

"Anything to do with the nightmares you've been having?" she asked absentmindedly, flipping through her phone.

"Sort of. It's nothing major. On a totally unrelated note, you still have your Cipher's Mark?" he asked.

"The tattoo thing on my calf? Yeah, I think it's still there. Haven't checked in a year or so." To demonstrate her point, she flipped over onto her stomach and turned her head to examine the back of her leg. Sure enough, the zodiac was as dark as it had been the first day she'd noticed it. "Guess that answers that. Why?"

"Nothing. Well, not nothing. Wendy came over tonight. Turns out she has one, too, and I'm wondering if they're somehow connected. I got kind of mad at her for not telling me," Dipper admitted, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"Oh, I see," Mabel grinned to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing!" she promised, turning over on her other side. "Shut up and let me sleep, Dipper."

"You're a very frustrating twin, you know that?" Dipper responded, narrowing his eyes and turning on the opposite side. "If you have something to say to me, then just say it, yeah?"

"I just can't believe you lied to me," Mabel's voice was muffled. "You swore up and down that you were over Wendy!"

"And how was that a lie?"

"Oh, for God's sake. Look at you. You didn't even get this freaked out when Ford, Stan and I found our Marks. You love her. You wouldn't be so freaked out if you didn't love her!"

"Okay. You've lost your mind. Did Beckett make you smoke something?" Dipper grumbled.

"No. No, he didn't. For the record, Beckett is a pretty awesome guy," Mabel smiled. She fell asleep pretty quickly, dreaming about the next time she would see Beckett.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dipper didn't sleep at all the rest of that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but think about that… thing coming after Wendy. There was no way in hell he could let that happen.

There had to be some way to distract it. Every entity had its weakness, Ford had taught him that. There was no such thing as a physical form without one. Maybe there was a way to distract it. Keep it trapped within his mind, so that it couldn't go wandering over to hers.

It suddenly dawned on him that this was why he had slept so well earlier in the evening. The thing had left him alone for just a few hours so that it could go find Wendy. From now on, his relief was going to be her pain, and vice versa.

He absentmindedly felt for the scar on his bicep, not surprised to find that it was still very cold. The silver color was still spreading. It had almost taken over the entire 8 inches of the scar at this point. He, like Ford, couldn't stop wondering what would happen when the color washed over the entire thing. At the rate it was going, it would probably happen within the next few hours.

He really hoped Wendy had gone straight back to her trailer. It really wasn't safe for her to be hanging around at night right now, especially with all that was going on. He'd halfway hoped she would stay the rest of the night so he could keep an eye on her, but that probably would have been an awkward thing to ask. Not that he really cared. Awkwardness had very little effect on him nowadays, he had been through so much of it already. He'd sort of reached his awkwardness peak, in a way.

He needed to talk to Ford. He knew he would head straight over there as soon as the sun came up, but that definitely wasn't an option right now. It was much smarter for him to stay put.

Difficult, since all he wanted to do was go make sure that Wendy was all right.

He wondered what that thing had said to her. Had it just tried to scare her, or had it taken more drastic measures, like digging into her memories or creating terrifying scenes for her? The thought of it made him want to throw up. This was his problem, there was no reason that she should have to be involved.

How had the thing found her, anyway? Was there something that he could have done to prevent it? That question swirled around in his mind. Maybe there was a way to make a deal with the entity, so that it would leave her alone. No, not a deal. Deals had proven to be much too dangerous for all of them in the past, thanks to Cipher. More of a trade. Him for her. The entity could mess around in his mind as much as it wanted, but it had to leave her alone. That would be the tradeoff.

But if this thing was anything like Cipher, and he had a feeling it was, then making a deal with it wasn't the best idea. Cipher had never been known to hold up his end of the deal.

The conversation that the two of them had had at the diner the other day flashed through his mind. If he was being honest, he had done his best to put his feelings for Wendy to the side ever since she'd turned him down. It had been really difficult for a couple of years, and those feelings had gotten in the way of some of his relationships. After a while, though, he got really good at not thinking about it.

He knew, deep down, that was part of the reason he wanted so badly to protect her. Sure, she was like his family in a way. He would do the same for Stan, or Ford, or Mabel. Even Soos and Melody. But even after all these years, he still couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if he hadn't ever said anything. Maybe it would have happened on its own. Maybe, in a way, he sort of ruined his own chances.

He flipped over in his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest the way he always did when he couldn't sleep. That day… he would have liked to say that he learned a lot and he got over her and all that, but it would have been a lie. He'd been heartbroken for months afterwards. He'd done his best not to let it change things with her, but seeing her every day had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He could never shake the feeling that she felt differently about him after that evening. Like she felt bad for him. Why shouldn't she? He had just been a kid, after all.

And now that he wasn't a kid anymore, he was realizing more and more that those feelings were still there, no matter how inconvenient they were. Luckily, he was extremely practiced at not showing people how he was really feeling. His best bet would probably be to get through the summer without letting on to Wendy. Staying friends was definitely the more logical thing to do.

Halfway across town, Wendy wasn't sleeping either, but for another reason. Being in the mindscape had really scared her, but not for the reason Dipper thought. Sure, it was a creepy place, but he didn't realize that she actually had been there before. Once.

Tears pricked her eyes at the memory of it. That entity, the one that had been talking to her in the mindscape. She'd met it before.

She didn't know anything about it. It had been completely random. It had found her in a dream one night and offered her something. Something that had been absolutely impossible for her to say no to.

 _"Who are you? What do you want?" Wendy yelled into the blackness, scared. This was an energy she had never encountered before._

 _"I could be a friend to you, Wendy, if you choose your words carefully," something spoke to her. It had a voice that she couldn't place. It wasn't male or female, but almost a mix of both. It constantly changed its pitch and accent. It was extremely confusing to listen to. It made her want to curl up into a ball and cover her ears. "I have something for you."_

 _"What are you talking about?" Wendy replied cautiously. She needed to keep her guard up. She'd never seen this thing in any of Dipper's journals, and she'd read them all pretty carefully._

 _"You see, I'm allowed to… help people who've had extreme emotional trauma in their lifetime. And you, love, you've had more than your fair share."_

 _"You don't know anything about me," Wendy cried, looking around desperately for some sort of exit or distraction. There was nothing but sheer blackness._

 _"So the name Eilleen doesn't ring a bell to you?" the thing sounded almost smug. Wendy froze, her blood going cold._

 _"How… how do you know my mom?" she whispered._

 _"I'm well acquainted with her. She's a lovely woman. Your father used to call her Ellie. You never knew her very well though, did you?"_

 _"Stop," Wendy cried, covering her ears, tears streaming down her face. "Don't talk about her."_

 _"Oh, Wendy. I'm not here to torture you. In fact, I'm here to offer you the chance to meet your mother. If, that is, you're willing to do something for me in return."_

 _Wendy felt like her body was paralyzed. That couldn't be possible._

 _Could it?_

 _"What are you talking about?" she asked quietly, still crying._

 _"When people die in your world, they come to exist in my mindscape. As souls, I suppose. I recognized you the second I saw you, you're the spitting image of Eilleen. She's here. If you agree to do something, I'll take you to see her."_

 _"What do you want from me?" Wendy asked carefully._

 _"It's an easy thing, really. That boy with the hat that's always following you around. He's in love with you. Unfortunately, that interferes with some plans of mine. All you have to do is promise me that you won't get involved with him."_

 _"Dip-Dipper's in love with me?" Wendy stuttered. Honestly, it had never really occurred to her._

 _"Yes. And I know that you have feelings for him to, even if you don't know it yet. In order for me to make certain things happen the way they're supposed to, you two can't be together. It's an easy thing to do, really. All you have to do is agree, and I'll let you spend time with your mom. The one you never really got to meet."_

 _She clenched her fists. God, she wanted to meet her mom. But…staying away from Dipper felt wrong, somehow. She wasn't sure why. She hadn't really ever considered him in that way, but now that she did…_

 _No. This was a chance she would never get again. She would get over Dipper. He would get over her. He had to. She trembled, tears streaking her face, but she nodded._

 _"Okay. I'll do it," she relented quietly. The entity giggled, a high-pitched one that was terrifying to hear._

 _The air surrounding Wendy changed, turning from black to a clear gold color. She was thrown through the air, and she landed in a place that looked like an older version of Gravity Falls, on her favorite cliff._

 _"Wendy?" she heard a glittering voice behind her, and she turned to face the mom she'd never really known._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 _"Mom," Wendy murmured, rushing toward her and flinging herself into her arms. Eilleen held her tightly, inhaling the scent of cinnamon on her daughter's hair._

 _"I can't believe you're here," Eilleen responded, closing her eyes. Her fiery red hair was braided almost down to her waist. She was wearing a silvery dress, one that looked like it was made out of pure moonlight. Wendy realized that she smelled like new lumber and apples.. She recognized the smell from her hat, the one that used to belong to Eilleen._

 _"It's really you," Wendy breathed, shaking with emotion and crying freely. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. The few memories she had of her mom came rushing back and impacted her with the force of a truck._

 _"Look at you," Eilleen breathed, pulling her daughter back and really studying her. Even with a tear-stained face, she could see Dan in her. That rounded chin, the freckles dotting her cheeks, and her long, pale legs. She got it all from him. But her eyes, nose, and long red hair, well, she had gotten that from Eilleen. "You've grown up all of a sudden."_

 _"It's scary," Wendy confessed, holding her mom's hand like a little girl. "Sometimes."_

 _"But you're brave," Eilleen assured her. "I watched you grow up from here. You aren't scared of anything, are you?"_

 _Wendy blushed a bit at the praise. "I guess not. Well, I guess there's one thing I'm scared of."_

 _Eilleen sat down in the grass, crossing her legs and motioning for Wendy to sit next to her. "Ah. The younger boy."_

 _"How'd you know?" Wendy asked._

 _"I told you, I've watched you grow up," Eilleen gave her a warm smile. "You two act like you've been married for ages."_

 _"I didn't really realize I felt that way about him until I knew he felt the same," she replied. "Now I guess there's nothing I can really do about it."_

 _"You know… there's something I always used to say to your dad, especially when we would get ourselves in tough situations. Which happened a lot." Eilleen laughed. "I would tell him, 'Love finds a way'. I still believe that. Even if it seems impossible."_

 _"I miss you, Mom," Wendy whispered, putting her head on her mom's shoulder. Eilleen smoothed her hair._

 _"I know, sweetheart. I miss all of you."_

 _Wendy noticed that the clear gold air was starting to get darker and cloudier. She looked at her mom in a panic. "Mom?"_

 _"It's all right, Wendy. I think our time is up." Eilleen smiled, but her eyes filled with tears as she grabbed her daughter and held her tightly. "Tell your dad that I love him more than he will ever know."_

 _"I will, I promise," Wendy sobbed quietly into her mom's shoulder. Eilleen gently pushed her away and stepped back, becoming blurrier in Wendy's line of vision._

 _"And Wendy?"_

 _"Yeah?" Wendy sniffed, wiping the tears that were racing down her freckled cheeks._

 _Eilleen looked at her daughter and felt every possible emotion swell up in her heart. "I am so proud of you. Every single day."_

 _Wendy opened her mouth to respond, but her mom was gone. She was back in her room, under her black and green comforter. The only thing that remained from her dream were the tearstains on her face._

 _And when she looked at the window to her left, someone had written "Remember the deal" in the morning frost._

Wendy had always felt extremely conflicted about that decision. Meeting her mom… it had been everything she had hoped it would be. But she couldn't ignore how she felt about Dipper. A few days after that, there had been the incident in the bunker, and Dipper had confessed to her how he felt. All she had wanted to do was return his feelings.

But. She had promised.

So she had given him the lame excuse of being too old for him and had quickly ridden home on her bike so that he couldn't tell she was crying. He hadn't brought it up again after that, and they'd stayed friends.

But she couldn't help thinking that this whole thing was her fault. The entity had to be here because of her.

How was she supposed to go over there and help her best friend try and work this whole thing out while keeping two huge secrets from him?

"Ford, open up," Dipper yelled, pounding on the lab's door. In his haste to get there, he had forgotten the main key. "I have to talk to you."

It took several minutes, but eventually, the old man opened the door. His hair was disheveled, his glasses were askew, and his right shirt sleeve looked like a shark had gotten a hold of it. "Sorry, Dipper. I didn't hear you. Is everything alright?"

"I could ask you the same question," Dipper responded, making his way into the lab. He left the door ajar behind him by accident, but neither of them noticed. "What happened to you?"

"I was working with a new creature I came across last night," Ford told him. "Turns out they aren't as friendly as I thought they were. He's over…" He turned and went a bit pale when he saw that the cage door had been chewed through. "Oh. That's not good."

Dipper immediately started checking under tables and in cabinets, but he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. "Actually, I could use your help with something. I actually got some sleep last night, but Wendy woke me up a few hours later and told me that she'd had the same nightmare I did."

Ford paused his searching for a moment, tossing Dipper a pair of heavy leather gloves. "Well, it's not unexpected. After all, you were the one who thought they were connected to Cipher's Mark. She's got one. I've got one. Stan and Mabel both have one. It's bound to find all of us sooner or later."

"Wait, you knew she had a Mark?" Dipper blanched. "How come you didn't tell me?"

Ford shrugged. "She asked me not to say anything. Thought it would just worry you when we didn't really even know what they were. So I figured it really wasn't my place."

Dipper sighed. "You're right. Sorry. Gosh, where is this thing?"

As if to answer Dipper's question, the two men suddenly heard a loud "OW!" from outside the lab.

"Damnit, the door," Dipper groaned, running towards it. He opened it the rest of the way to see a familiar redhead on the other side, looking very peeved, with a small brown creature hanging off of her arm. It looked like a cross between a squirrel and a small bear.

"You guys- ow, ow!- gotta learn to keep your work inside," Wendy muttered, trying to pull the thing off. It held fast, making a chirping noise as if mocking her efforts.

"Oh, jeez," Ford sighed, going over to Wendy and grabbing the thing by the tail. It still made no effort to release her arm. "Wendy, I'm real sorry about this. Let's go inside and I'll get it off, okay?"

"Sounds good," Wendy grinned in spite of everything. Dipper felt awfully guilty.

"I'm so sorry, Wendy. I forgot to close the door the rest of the way," he apologized. "It's my fault."

"Don't worry about it, dude," she winced. "Dammit, stop chewing on my arm!"

"Here," Ford offered, rushing back over to them and sitting Wendy down in one of the metal chairs that littered the lab floor. "Give me just a minute, okay?

"No problem," she murmured. The skin on her arm around the creature was starting to turn a very interesting shade of purple.

"Sorry," Dipper grimaced, feeling her pain. "I'll clean it up for you when Ford gets the damn thing off, okay?"

"Hey, it has a name," Ford argued.

"Woodchipper?" Wendy muttered.

" _Scirius arctos,_ " he replied happily. "I think it's some sort of mix between a squirrel and a brown bear. With an aggressive streak, obviously."

He finally poked the creature with a small wooden stick, and it quickly let go of Wendy's arm, crunching the stick in half and swallowing it happily.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Good Lord," Dipper sighed, gently taking Wendy's arm. She winced in pain. "Ford, is that thing poisonous?"

Ford peered over and studied Wendy's arm. "It would appear so. Sorry, Wendy." He picked the creature up by the tail, but as soon as he did, it quickly latched onto his finger. He was glad he was wearing leather gloves. He quickly made his way over to one of the metal cabinets, took out a small vial, and tossed it. "Dipper, look alive, boy."

Dipper caught it easily, which Wendy found different. He had never been the most coordinated kid. "Yeah, this'll do it," he replied, taking a sterile needle out of the drawer beside both of them and drawing up a small amount of the liquid. It was blue, almost glowing.

"What is that stuff?" Wendy asked, studying the bottle.

"It's sort of an all-purpose antidote," Ford called from another room. "Dipper found it a few years ago somewhere in California and mailed it to me to analyze. It's worked on everything so far. Hasn't killed me yet."

Wendy shrank back slightly. "Um, Dipper? I really don't like needles…"

Dipper grinned at this. "You're kidding. You? You aren't scared of anything."

"Yeah, but…" The sight of the needle made her stomach turn.

"Well, don't look at it, then. Look somewhere else," Dipper instructed, uncapping it. Wendy looked around for something to distract her, then finally ended up watching Dipper's eyes as he worked.

They were still brown, but they had darkened slightly over the years. They had also lost the childlike innocence that used to live in them, but it had been replaced with a sense of confidence and intelligence.

"Ow," she murmured as Dipper stuck the needle into the crook of her arm, closing her eyes.

"Sorry, almost done," Dipper promised, feeling bad. He pushed the antidote out of the needle and into her bloodstream, then quickly removed it, holding his thumb over the small hole that had been made in her pale skin to keep it from bleeding. He tossed the needle into the bin to his left. "There. All good."

Wendy felt a tingle flow through her body at the sensation of his hand wrapped around her arm, but she didn't say anything.

"Jesus, that thing did a number on you," Dipper frowned up at her, looking at the bite mark, now. It looked like a gigantic purple bruise surrounded by dozens of tiny teeth holes. Blood was smeared around it, horror-movie style. "I'm going to wrap this up too, is that okay?"

"Um, yeah," Wendy agreed, still watching him carefully. He used a gauze pad to clean off the blood, grabbed some pressure wrap out of the drawer, and expertly wound it around her arm tightly.

"Does that feel okay? It's supposed to be tight," he asked.

"Yeah, it's okay," she whispered, examining the bandage before smiling at him gratefully. Dipper had to do his best not to pull her out of the chair and onto his lap to comfort her.

Wendy noticed his stare and looked down at her lap, blushing.

"Dipper, you left your stupid journal back at the cabin," Mabel yelled from the front door. Both Dipper and Wendy jumped like they'd been set on fire. Mabel made her way inside and tossed the blue leather book at her brother. Dipper caught it with one hand and put it on the table next to him.

"Thanks, Mabes," he nodded. "Would have been stupid trying to work without that."

"Eesh, what happened?" Mabel asked, pointing to Wendy's bandaged left arm.

"Small accident with what appears to be a cross between a squirrel and a bear," Wendy indicated. "All good. Dipper took care of it."

To her surprise, Dipper blushed slightly, but it disappeared so quickly she thought maybe she had imagined it. "Easy fix. It was my fault in the first place for leaving the door open." He quickly stood and put his hands in his pockets.

"Well, as interesting as this is," Mabel began, "Beckett asked me if I wanted to go see a movie with him, so I think I'll head out."

"You really like this guy, don't you?" Wendy teased.

"You're damn right I do," Mabel fired off, grinning, before leaving the lab. "You two love nuggets have fun!"

Wendy tried her hardest not to blush furiously. Dipper, on the other hand, just looked after his sister with a bemused smile on his face. "What is a love nugget?" he laughed.

"Apparently, you are," Wendy replied, chuckling.

"I'm not sure how to feel about that," he replied, taking his journal off the table and opening it up to somewhere in the middle. "Do you mind sticking around for a little bit? I want to make sure the antidote does its job."

"Yeah," Wendy nodded, looking around the lab. Ford and Dipper had really updated it over the years. What had once been a creepy old place, worn with age and laden with death traps, had become a place that almost looked like a house, minus the locked cages and cabinets scattered around containing various creatures and specimens. Wendy figured that they two of them often spent nights in here, because there was a room in the back with two twin beds in it. "What are you guys working on today?"

"Well, I assume Ford is going to try and calm that thing down for the next few hours," Dipper motioned towards the back room where the occasional muttered curse floated out. "I'm still trying to figure out what this thing in our nightmares is. You had anything else strange happen since last night?"

"Uh… no, I guess not," Wendy stammered. God, she wanted to tell him. It was agonizing keeping this secret from him. But what would he think of her afterwards? He would never talk to her again.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Back in the lab, Dipper kicked a chair about halfway across the room. It made a satisfying noise as it collided with a lab table. Then he sat down, back on his heels, and put his hands over his face.

He'd been harsh. He knew that. But just the idea of her willingly lying to him and using his emotions to get something she wanted, even something as important to her as that, just made his blood boil. As long as he could remember, he and Wendy had told each other everything. And the fact that he would keep something this huge from her just made him feel… betrayed.

 _She's a liar._

"Who's there?" Dipper questioned furiously, jumping up and grabbing the baseball bat that was propped near the door.

 _Oh, you're adorable. Even if you could see me, you couldn't hit me._

"You," Dipper exhaled. "Why are you here? I'm not asleep."

 _I'm aware._ If a disembodied voice from an abnormal entity could sound sarcastic, this one did.

"So?"

 _I'm just here to make sure you aren't alone, standing up to that girl._

"I think I can manage just fine," Dipper replied dryly. "I was harsh."

 _No, you weren't. You were right, Dipper. Don't give her so much credit. She doesn't deserve it._

"I don't think that's necessarily true," he said cautiously, suddenly more suspicious of the presence.

 _It's absolutely true. I'll never understand why you spend so much time around her. She's a nothing._

"Okay, shut up," Dipper narrowed his eyes, still looking around the room for anything, absolutely anything, that looked out of place. "What do you want?"

 _You'll find out in due time, Dipper. That girl is a selfish, spiteful one. You have every right to be mad._

Before Dipper could reply further, he saw a tiny flash of silver by the door, the entity knowing it had the upper hand and showing him that it was leaving and that it was still unthreatened. A sharp pain ran down his upper arm and he hissed out a breath, clapping a hand over his scar. It was ice-cold, almost painful to touch. When he took his other hand off of it to get a better look and he felt all of the blood drain out of his head as he realized that the entire length of the scar had now been completely taken over by the silvery color.

That was his last thought before he blacked out, falling hard and hitting his head on a nearby lab table.

"I don't understand it," murmured Ford, his head bent over his fifth journal, tapping his pen at hyper speed. His twin brother glanced over at him with an annoyed expression on his face.

"And drumming on that thing is going to make it better?" Stan grumbled, putting his feet up on an extra kitchen chair and opening a Pitt Cola.

"Sorry," Ford shook his head. "I'll never understand how you can drink that stuff, by the way."

"I'd much rather a beer, but we ran out about a week ago," Stan shrugged. "You want to make a liquor store run, be my guest."

That got a small chuckle out of Ford, something that was exceedingly rare, especially these days.

"Sorry, brother, I think it's a bit late for that," he replied.

Stan glanced out the window. "Ford."

"Yes?"

"What time is it?"

"About….oh. Oh."

Stan met his brother's gaze. "It's only 5:00pm in the middle of summer, and it's dark."

Ford stood from his chair and pulled the curtain aside. "That's not just dark, Stanley. I can't see anything at all. It's completely black outside."

"Uh… is this something I need to be concerned about?"

"Darkness," Ford muttered to himself, going over every discovery he had ever made, and more that he hadn't.

Stan just looked over at his brother, extremely confused. "Ford?"

"Wait," Ford breathed, running at full speed back into his bedroom and emerging a few seconds later with a very beat-up, very old-looking book. He opened it to one of the many dog-eared pages and his face paled. "Oh."

"Ford!"

"Sorry," he apologized, turning slowly to his brother, suddenly looking very small and frightened. Stan wanted to jump up and grab him, protecting him from whatever had panicked him so much, but now wasn't the time. Ford met his eyeline and said just one thing: "Erebus."

"Air of who now?

"Erebus," Ford whispered, shaking his head. "I should have figured this out a long time ago. Erebus is the embodiment of pure, unadulterated darkness."

"Ah. That would explain the shitshow out there," Stan grumbled, pointing a thumb towards the door.

Ford shook his head. "Stanley, you're not hearing me. Not just darkness as in the absence of light, but also darkness as in every source of evil."

"Oh. That's bad."

"It's more than bad, Stanley," Ford exhaled, still looking extremely fearful. "It's a death sentence for all of us."

Wendy had started running the second she saw the blanket of blackness begin to extend across the sky.

She'd seen enough strange things in Gravity Falls to know that when the sky started to change color like that, it usually wasn't good.

Her feet pounded the gravel path and she was about thirty feet from the lab when she completely lost visibility, no longer aware of which direction she was heading. It reminded her of being in the mindscape with that entity in her nightmares, and a cold feeling washed through her stomach.

"Dipper," she screamed, but she got no answer. "Dipper! Help!"

Inside the lab, Dipper blinked, slowly coming back into consciousness and realizing just how much his head hurt. He turned his head and realized that his entire left arm had that silvery sheen to it that had previously been confined to his scar. As he watched in horror, he realized that it was slowly, millimeter by millimeter, creeping up past the top of the scar and towards his shoulder.

 _Finally._

Dipper inhaled as a wave of ice rushed through his body.

 _I've finally got you._

"What are you talking about?" Dipper whispered, trying not to panic.

 _Finally. Soon my essence will take over your entire body. And once I'm finished with you, I'll be able to wipe out the rest of your family._

"No," he murmured, shaking his head, trying to stand, but he was still too dizzy from shaking his head.

"Dipper!"

"Wendy," he breathed, shifting positions and doing his best to face the door. "Wendy!"

Back outside, Wendy almost collapsed with relief as she heard the remains of a voice call her name from the lab. "Dipper! Dipper, keep talking!"

"Wendy! I'm right here! Wendy!" he yelled, as loudly as he could. "Wendy, where are you?!"

"Dipper!" she screamed, dropping down on all fours to avoid falling and crawling towards the sound of his voice. "Hang on!"

"I'm right here! Wendy, follow my voice!"

"Hang on, I'm coming!"

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard the door of the lab being flung open the rest of the way and raised his head to see her running towards him. She stopped when she saw the condition he was in. "Dipper?"

"You're okay," he sighed, closing his eyes. Wendy surveyed the damage he'd sustained. From what, she didn't know. He had a large, 3-inch gash in his forehead that was steadily dripping blood down the right side of his face. His left arm, the one that bore the scar, didn't match the rest of his skin. It looked silver, the same silver that she had seen his eyes flash a few nights before.

"What's going on?" she asked, fearful, backing up a few inches.

"Listen to me, Wendy. I'm still me for now." Weakly, he raised his right arm and mimicked the locking, throw-away-the-key motion she had used to signal him in the bunker all those years ago. She recognized it immediately and closed the distance between them, dropping down on her knees next to him.

"Dipper, what's happening?" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.

"Whatever it is that's been following us, it's here," he told her. "I don't have a lot of time. I need you to do something for me, okay? In a few minutes, my personality is probably going to change and I'm going to ask you to reconsider, but no matter what I say, you need to do this for me, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. "What is it?"

Dipper's darkened brown eyes met her green ones, bright with terror. "I need you to cut my left arm off."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I'm getting a little freaked out," Mabel whispered. Her grip on Beckett's hand, who was sitting in the pitch-black movie theater to her right, tightened substantially. Instead of pulling it away, he squeezed back.

"It's okay," he promised, but there was obvious fear in his voice. All of the power in the entire theater had gone out about ten minutes ago. They had both immediately run to the doors, being the only ones in the theater, but they were stuck and wouldn't budge. So they had decided that their best course of action was to sit with their backs to the wall, facing the doors, and scream the second someone walked by.

Unfortunately, nobody had come.

"I really know how to take a girl out, huh?" he chuckled, bumping his shoulder against her own.

"Well, for the record, it was going really well before the whole power outage thing," Mabel smiled down at the floor. "You're a pretty great guy."

Beckett's stomach flipped, but in a good way. He'd never been great with women, but something about Mabel's blunt honesty and creative spirit just sort of made him melt. For God's sake, the first time he'd met her, he'd called her "Mabel of Berkeley." Running home he had sort of wanted to hurl himself off the floating cliffs, and he never expected her to show up that night. But she had. And then, at the end of the night, when she'd innocently kissed him on the cheek… well, there wasn't a lot that made him blush, but that sure as hell had.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired in a low voice, avoiding her line of sight.

"Go for it," she said, turning to look at him. He'd shaved his beard for their date, so he just had a fine layer of stubble on his jawline, and his hair was still pulled back into the ever-present bun. He smelled really good, too, sort of like soap and sawdust at the same time. He shifted to face her but still wouldn't quite look directly at her.

"Would it.. I mean, I don't want to be… but, well…" He looked uncomfortable, and he was blushing just the same as he had the night of their first date. "Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Mabel giggled at his shyness, and he finally met her eyes just a second before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, laying one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder. He kissed her back eagerly but gently, and, not completely sure what to do with his hands, eventually settled them high on her waist so she didn't think he was trying to cop a feel. She tasted really good, like cherry lip gloss and bubble gum.

It was a really innocent kiss. No wandering hands, no tongues, no weird animal noises, but both of them could have sworn they had died and gone straight to heaven.

She pulled back first and grinned at the disappointed expression on Beckett's face. "Yes. Yes, it would be okay if you kissed me."

"You're insane," Wendy said, her face losing what little color it had left.

"I'm not, I swear," he pleaded with her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "If whatever this is gets past my arm and into my mind, I won't come back, Wendy. I'll never come back."

"Why?"

"That thing you and I were seeing in our dreams is trying to take me over, Wendy. Please, you can't let that happen," he urged her. "It'll be quick. Just use my belt as a tourniquet and use your axe. I'll pass out pretty fast. You have to help me."

"Prove to me it's you," she whispered, putting both her hands on his chest and feeling his heartbeat, faster than normal, fluttering beneath her touch.

"My first name is Mason," he breathed, the cold returning, almost painful now. "My biggest fear is losing one of you. I once cloned myself nine times to try and impress you at a dance when I was twelve. I've watched you literally fight yourself, and then I buried an axe in your stomach. I found the third journal and indirectly caused the apocalypse. I just learned that you're scared of needles. And now I really, really need you to cut off my arm."

Wendy closed her eyes, the tears returning with a vengeance, dripping off of her chin and onto Dipper's already blood-stained shirt. Slowly but deliberately, she unbuckled his belt and gently slid it from his waist.

"If this were under different circumstances, that would have been really hot," Dipper snorted, shivering in earnest now.

"Shut up," she instructed, shaking her head and tightening the belt just below his shoulder so that it completely cut off his circulation. Then she stopped. "Dipper, I can't-"

"You have to," he interrupted, meeting her eyes. "I'm okay. It's okay."

She looked like she was about to throw up, but she positioned the axe, the cold steel of it gently marking his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to feel excruciating pain.

What he didn't expect was for her to kiss him.

It was quick, and he thought he'd imagined it, but he opened his eyes to see Wendy with one hand touching her lips and the other still holding the axe.

He opened his mouth to say something and she swung the axe downwards with everything she had.

"Ford, if you don't let go of my arm in two seconds, I'm going to punch you in the face with my brass knuckles," Stan ground out, trying to remove his twin from him.

"You're even more brain damaged than I thought if you think for one second that you're going out there," Ford argued, the stronger of the two men. "That thing will come after you the second it sees you, and you aren't going to do anyone any good if you're dead."

"Mabel is out there," Stan replied, still trying to pull away.

"She's inside, and you taught her well. She isn't going to go wandering around outside when something like this is happening. Not only that, Beckett wouldn't let her."

"I'm still not sure I like that kid," he grumbled.

"His dad is good people," Ford promised. "He's got a smart kid, and if there's one thing I'm sure he would do, it's protecting Mabel. He's got it bad for her."

Stan struggled for a second longer, then gave up, looking sadly out the window. "God, I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right. I always was the smarter twin," Ford shrugged. Stan snorted and slung an arm around his older brother.

"Never thought this is how we'd see the apocalypse," Stan sighed. "I always thought the two of us would kill each other aboard that boat."

"We came close a few times."

"That we did," Stan chuckled.

The two brothers stood there for the next hour, watching the world end.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Wendy had prepared herself for screaming, cursing, and a whole lot of blood.

Instead, she got an unconscious Dipper, a freaking demon, and a whole lot of blood.

The second she swung her axe down, separating Dipper's arm from his body in one quick motion, he gasped once, his normally brown eyes flashed silver, and he became completely unresponsive.

Unfortunately, the rest of his body did not follow suit, and what was left of his shoulder began bleeding too quickly to manage, even with the tourniquet.

"Shit," she breathed, and quickly ripped her tank top off herself without thinking about it, pressing it as hard as she could to the wound. It did little to help. She screamed for Ford and Stan over and over, praying they could hear her through the heavy vending machine that doubled as the door to the lab. "Dipper, I swear to God, if you die, I'm going to kill you."

 _Both of your deaths can be arranged quite easily_ , a voice hissed at her. She looked up in a panic just in time to see all the silver leave Dipper's now-severed arm and reform itself into an almost human shape. _You think you've beaten me, but I'm just getting started. The only thing you've just accomplished is to prolong your demises for a few hours._

"Leave them alone," Wendy gasped. "You can have me, just leave them alone."

 _I have nothing I want from you. Him, on the other hand, he's a much greater prize. And you, Wendy Corduroy, have just signed his death warrant._

"No!"

"Wendy!" Ford exclaimed as he ran down the stairs, stopping when he saw the condition his nephew was in. "What the-"

"What, did she finally make a move on-" Stan cut his joke short, a rare occurrence, and halted behind his brother.

"You have to help him," Wendy cried, still doing her best to staunch the flow of blood emanating from Dipper's stump. "Please, he's going to die!"

Ford, level-headed as always, immediately ran down the stairs and took over for Wendy, who fell back on her rear-end, in obvious shock. "Stanley, go to the third cabinet from the left up top and grab me the big leather case that's in there. I have some basic surgical supplies."

Stanley didn't move, staring down at Dipper's face, which had turned grey, almost.

"STANLEY!"

"Third cabinet," Stanley muttered, to himself, running over to the lab shelves and grabbing the aforementioned case. "This it?"

"Yes. Bring it over here and toss me that box of gloves," Ford commanded. "Put on a pair yourself. You've just become my nurse."

"Normally I would argue, but I'm okay with that right now," Stan said shakily, snapping on a pair of the latex gloves.

"Wendy, while I'm clamping off Dipper's axillary artery, would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?" Ford asked, not unkindly.

"H-he told me I had to do it," Wendy stammered, still without a shirt, the tan bra she was wearing covered in blood. "He said that thing was taking him over and t-this was the only way to save him…"

Ford looked worriedly at Stan, who swallowed nervously.

"Okay, that artery's clamped," Ford pressed on, not acknowledging what Wendy had said. That was a conversation for when his nephew wasn't at risk of dying. "Stanley, hand me that little white packet that says "Proline" on it. Yes, that one."

"I killed him," Wendy whispered to herself, trembling visibly and streaking bloody handprints on the floor. "He's dead and it's my fault."

"He's not dead, Wendy," Ford said firmly, "so a little optimism would be appreciated. Okay, Stanley, put your finger there and hold those stitches really tight so I can suture the muscle layer."

The two men worked furiously for the next two hours, finally managing to completely sew up Dipper's arm; or, what was left of it.

"He needs a transfusion," Ford sighed. "Or he really isn't going to make it."

"I can do it," Wendy said quickly. "We're the same blood type."

Ford raised his eyebrows at her.

"Don't… ask me how I know that," she said, staring at the floor. Within minutes, Wendy and Dipper were connected with a one-way IV needle.

"So whatever that thing was tried to take over Dipper's body?" Stan asked, not quite understanding the whole situation.

"That's what he told me," Wendy said quietly, not taking her eyes off of Dipper. "I didn't want to do it. He told me I had to, so I…"

"It's all right," Ford nodded, coming out of one of the back rooms with a blanket. "Uh, I thought maybe you would want something to cover up with…"

She realized for the first time that she was still in only a bra, albeit covered in Dipper's blood. "Oh. Right. Sorry, guys." She wrapped the blanket around her upper body, careful not to disturb the arm with the needle.

"Quite all right," Ford cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed. "We did figure out what that thing is, Wendy."

"Is it Cipher again?" she asked, praying that the answer to that question was no.

"It's not Cipher. It's an entity called Erebus. Quite literally, it's the physical manifestation of every kind of darkness in the world." Ford sat down next to his brother, who was attempting to clean his nephew's blood off his hands and arms with a wet wipe. It was not working.

"So what does that mean for us?" Wendy inquired, unconsciously taking Dipper's hand with the arm that was saving his life.

"Well… there's no good way to put this, Wendy," Ford hesitated, but he knew he had to tell her the truth. "I have no idea how to defeat this thing. It's looking like this could be the real end for all of us this time."

She cracked a small smile. "Don't tell me that Ford the Great is giving up on us."

Stan put an arm around his brother. "We're all safe. That's all that matters."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Wendy had no idea how long she was hooked up to Dipper via IV, but she did start to feel lightheaded after a while. She didn't say anything, though. The more blood Dipper got, the better his chances were.

That proved to be the case when, several hours later, Dipper finally opened his eyes about halfway. Ford was the first to notice and braced himself for his nephew to be in extreme amounts of pain, but Dipper just blinked sleepily at him.

"Whass goin on?" he slurred, looking around the room and surprising the hell out of Wendy and Stan, who both jumped. Wendy immediately scooted over beside him and glanced at his eyes. They were the same shade of brown as normal and, noticing this and realizing what it meant, she let out something that sounded like a cross between a sob and a laugh and collapsed onto him, wrapping her arms around his chest. This, unfortunately, tore the IV needle out of her arm and caused the vein to start bleeding profusely, but she didn't even notice.

"You gigantic dumbass," she breathed, listening to his heart beat as if to convince herself that he was really here.

"Wendy," Ford murmured with a small smile, shaking his head. He quickly wrapped her bleeding arm with pressure tape and then stepped back.

"I cannot believe you made me cut off your arm."

"Thass me, the crazy lunatic…" he chuckled. "Wha'd you do to your arm?"

"Nothing," she snorted, lifting her head up and glaring at him in disbelief. "You're missing a freaking arm and you want to know why I have a little bit of blood on me?"

"You needed a transfusion," Stan shrugged, sitting down next to his nephew. He wasn't an affectionate man, but he took Dipper's hand anyway, allowing the dreadful feeling that had resided in the pit of his stomach for the last half a day to relax a bit.

"But you hate needles," Dipper argued, still sounding a bit drugged.

"You _really_ needed a transfusion," Wendy gave him a small smile.

"I love you," Dipper smiled back before closing his eyes again. Wendy froze and stared at him like he had six heads. Stan and Ford shared a wide-eyed look.

"Uh… maybe we should let him sleep for a while," Stan interrupted. "Let's get him upstairs."

Wendy still didn't say anything, but nodded and let go of his hand. She wasn't really sure what to think about what had just been said. He was just out of it, right?

Right. Of course. He'd just had a limb cut off. He was bound to say some crazy shit.

Ford carefully lifted his nephew's shoulders, doing his best not to disturb his injury, and Stan took his feet. Together, the two brothers hauled him upstairs and set him down on the couch.

"There we go. Now we can at least keep an eye on him," Stan muttered, passing his brother a soda out of the fridge. Ford took it gratefully, eyeing Wendy, who had pulled an armchair over and was sitting directly in front of Dipper, refusing to let him out of her sight.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem," he murmured to Stan, who stifled a chuckle.

"So we're just stuck here?" Mabel whispered.

"Maybe not," Beckett replied, pulling a small Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket and going to work on the door. Within minutes, he had completely disassembled the knob and lock, and he proudly swung the door open. "Ladies first?"

Mabel gaped at him. "That was incredibly cool."

"I have my moments," Beckett admitted, blushing slightly. "Let's get the hell out of here."

He grabbed her hand and both of them jogged down the darkened hallway. It was eerily quiet.

"Okay, I know we weren't the only people in here when the movie started," Mabel murmured. "Where did everyone go?"

"I'm not sure," Beckett replied, moving in front of her. "Wait."

A faint noise could be heard from the theater on the far side of the hallway.

"People?" Mabel whispered.

"I don't think so," Beckett shook his head, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

That's when the theater exploded, sending a shockwave through the hallway. Beckett stumbled and Mabel fell backwards onto her butt.

"Run! Go!" he yelled, pulling her up and shoving her towards the exit. "Get home!"

"What are you doing?" she screamed. Wind whipped through the hallway like a miniature hurricane as tendrils of silver made their way out the door of the far theater.

"Go now! I'm right behind you, I promise!" Beckett cried, pushing her forward again. This time she listened, running toward the exit and finally pushing her way free of the doors. The sudden darkness outside stunned her, and she stopped. She could still just barely see in front of her, but looking towards the direction of the Mystery Shack… it was like a black hole.

She already knew Beckett wasn't behind her. She didn't even have to turn around. Feeling tears prick her cheeks, she took off towards the Mystery Shack.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"There's really nothing we can do?" Stan whispered, sitting opposite his brother, watching the two kids on the couch snoring in tandem.

"I don't know," Ford admitted, which really stopped Stan in his tracks. That was the first time he had ever heard his brother admit that. "I honestly don't have an answer here, Stanley. I've been through all the journals, all my notes, all of my textbooks, and I'm just lost." He looked over at his younger brother with real fear in his eyes. "I really think this could be the end for all of us, Stanley. I need you to be prepared for that possibility."

"I've been prepared for that possibility ever since I started rebuilding that portal in the first place," Stan shrugged. "I always knew you'd kill me in the end, Poindexter. Just didn't think I'd take the rest of you with me."

Ford made a noise that was somewhere in between a snort and a cough.

Suddenly, the wooden door of the shack flew open, banging against the wall and scaring everyone. Wendy woke up and was instantly on her feet, axe in hand. Dipper sat up and quickly slumped over sideways, still out of it from blood loss. Ford grabbed his gun from its holster, quicker than a flash of lightening, and Stanley clenched his fists and prepared for a fight.

"What the hell did you two do this time?" an angry voice yelled, and Mabel stepped over the threshold, grappling hook in one hand, both of her knees skinned and bleeding, her jeans torn.

"Thank God," Stan exhaled, and quickly ran over to her and grabbed her up into a bear hug. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I was just chased out of the movie theater by… I don't even know what!" Mabel cried, wrapping her arms around her Grunkle. "Beckett's still back there. You have to go help him!"

"Absolutely not," Ford stated, standing up so quickly that his chair scooted backwards across the kitchen floor. "I'm so sorry, Mabel, I am, but absolutely nobody is going anywhere. Whatever is out there is looking for blood and none of you are going to be easy prey."

"All the more reason to go get him," she argued, tears forming in her eyes, pulling away from Stan and standing directly in front of Ford. Her brown eyes, slightly lighter than Dipper's burned furiously. Ford was surprised to realize just how much she had grown up in the past few years. She now stood not at his waist, but at just a few inches shorter than him. She had a scratch on her cheek, dried blood surrounding it like the small bloom of a poppy. "I'm not just going to leave him there to die!"

"I don't think he's in any danger," Ford said carefully. "It's after us, not him. He should be just fine."

"But you don't know that."

"No. I can't say that for sure."

Mabel exhaled angrily and turned away from him, spotting her brother, half-conscious, his chin resting on the top of the couch. "Who drugged Dipping-sauce?"

"Mabel, about that-" Stan started, but she quickly cut him off when she saw the condition her brother was in.

"Oh my God, what happened? What did you do to him? Where the hell is his arm?!" Mabel yelled, whirling around and glaring accusingly at Wendy, who was pale as a ghost, partly from giving Dipper so much of her blood, and partly from the fact that the apocalypse was going on outside their window.

"It's a long story," she whispered, pulling her knees up to her chin, her eyes not completely focused.

"We've got nothing but time," Mabel insisted firmly, crossing her arms tightly across the front of her t-shirt. It had once said "adult-ish." Now it just said "adult-i," as the rest of it had a silvery stain covering it.

"I'll tell it," Ford volunteered, coming into the living room and sitting down in one of the chairs by the couch. "It's the least I can do."

And so he recounted that afternoon's events, with a little help from Wendy. Mabel noticed that, the more the story went on, the more distant Wendy's gaze got. She looked like a zombie at that point.

"… we were able to get him stitched up in time, Wendy gave him a blood transfusion, and we all ended up here," he finished. Mabel was kneeling by her brother's side by that point, who had awakened and was looking much better than he had a few hours before.

"I can't believe you pulled something like that," she scolded him, tears running down her cheeks.

"Didn't have much of a choice," he murmured, giving her a weak grin. It was all he could do not to look over and see what was left of his arm. He had a feeling it wasn't much. But at least that thing, whatever it was, had left him alone. For the time being, at least.

A sudden pounding at the door startled them all back into their battle positions. All except for Wendy, who didn't even look up. She just kept staring at the couch, frozen in place.

"Nobody move," Stan hissed, creeping toward the door. He opened it a crack, making sure to keep the chain on. "Who's there?"

"Is Mabel home? Is she safe?" a familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Beckett," Mabel exhaled, her voice cracking. Stan unlatched the chain and opened the door fully to reveal a very beaten-up Beckett. "Thank God," she sobbed, running towards him at top speed and launching herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist like a koala and letting the tears flow in earnest. His eyes weren't all that dry either as he buried his face in her neck, breathing in the whole of her and thanking every single diety that was up there that she was safe.

"Eh-hem," Stan cleared his throat. "Who's this?"

"Oh, give them a minute," Dipper replied. "That's Beckett, the guy she's been seeing the past week or so. He's a good guy. They got close really quickly."

"It would appear so," Ford quipped, coughing uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," the blonde-haired boy apologized sheepishly. "My manners are usually better than this." He put Mabel down but kept her hand tightly clasped in his, like he was afraid to let her go too far. "I'm Beckett Ferrimann. My dad knows you two, I think."

"Of course, Jack Ferrimann. Your dad is good people," Ford nodded, shaking the young man's hand firmly. "Standford Pines, but everyone calls me Ford. Mabel is my great-niece."

"Stanley Pines, Stan," Stan chimed in, also shaking his hand, but with a bit more force than his brother. He never had done too well with Mabel bringing boys around. "You want to explain why my niece showed up on our porch all by herself in the middle of the apocalypse?"


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Beckett sat down on the couch next to Dipper, under the watchful eye of Stan, and began to recount his tale to the group.

 _"Go now! I'm right behind you, I promise!" he yelled, and Mabel finally listened to him and ran for the doors._

 _He turned back towards the movie theater, where the silver tendrils were no longer curling out like wisps of smoke. Now they were reaching, growing with every second, towards him._

 _Instinctively, he ducked, but it didn't fool whatever it was coming towards him. One of the tendrils hit him across the face, surprising him. It looked like smoke, but it was solid. He felt his nose start bleeding on impact, and the force of it threw him up against the wall. He hit his head and instantly, his vision became blurry, but he knew he had to move if he wanted to make it out of there alive._

 _He ducked quickly into the nearest theater, directly behind him, and quietly crept along the rows of seats. He heard the doors behind him burst open, splintering in the process. It was eerily quiet as the thing wound its way through the theater in search of anything living._

 _It took everything he had not to scream when it started making its way down his row. Seat by seat, it got closer and closer to him, and the only thing behind him now was the wall. He was trapped._

 _Closer._

 _The second one of the tendrils touched him, his leg went completely numb. Horrified, he looked at it, only to find that it was transparent. It was like his right leg had died and become a ghost, while the rest of his body was still intact. The thing hissed triumphantly, evidently satisfied that it had found him and could kill him._

 _As if on cue, the movie projector sprang to life, splashing light throughout the room. Beckett squinted at the screen as what looked like an upside-down Deadpool movie played._

 _Instantly, whatever the thing was shrank as far back from the light as it could get, like it was being burned. Beckett's leg returned to normal, the feeling rushing back into it painfully quickly. Putting the beam of light between himself and the predator, he climbed over seat backs and practically launched himself through the exit door out into the afternoon._

 _Well, he thought it was the afternoon. Except it was pitch black now._

 _He could've cried. There was no way he'd be able to make it back to the Mystery Shack. He didn't know the way like Mabel did._

 _Looking around furiously, he managed to make out one piece of his vision that was much darker than the rest. It was like it was the dead of night, and there was a black hole in front of him._

 _Not knowing what else to do, he started towards it._

"I don't know what that thing was, but it's going to kill all of us if we don't get out of here," Beckett confirmed.

"Ford knows," Wendy admitted, and the rest of the group went dead silent, looking at Ford.

"You do?" Dipper asked. "When'd you figure it out?"

"Right before we came downstairs and found you," Ford explained. "I managed to come across a page in one of my older mythology books that sounded awfully familiar. I think this thing after all of us… it's called Erebus."

"Erebus… isn't that a three-headed dog?" Mabel questioned.

"That's Cerberus," Beckett offered. "From Ancient Greece."

"This is also Greek mythology, so you weren't too far off," Ford conceded. "Erebus is the literal representation of darkness. Born from Chaos, father of Aether and Thanatos."

"So, complete darkness," Dipper affirmed. "That sounds promising."

"As I was telling Stan earlier," Ford cleared his throat. "I… I don't have any ideas here, kids. This isn't like anything anyone has ever faced. This is the real end of the world, not just of Gravity Falls."

"How uplifting," Mabel said dryly, glancing over at Wendy, whose eyes had glassed over, staring into nothing. "Hey, Wendy, are you all right?"

She didn't respond, still staring off into space.

"Hey, Wendy!" Dipper tried to sit up, but quickly realized that his body was not going to let him.

"She's probably just in a bit of shock," Ford assured them, kneeling down in front of the redhead. She shifted her gaze to meet his, but she still wasn't really seeing anything. "She needs to rest. All of us do, I think, at least for a while."

"Everyone stays in the den," Stan said firmly. "Nobody leaves, and I'll stay up to make sure nothing else crazy happens."

"We switch off," Ford corrected him, earning a glare from his twin. "We're all in this together, Stanley."

Stan looked like he might punch Ford, but sighed instead. "Fine. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

Mabel and Beckett eventually fell asleep on the floor next to Dipper's couch, backs pressed against each other, Mabel snoring softly every few minutes. Dipper was still awake, his eyes shifting over to Wendy often. She wasn't sleeping either, just watching the fireplace.

Her head was killing her. Something just wasn't right, but she couldn't really put her finger on it. Maybe it was from the blood loss. Black spots danced in the center of her vision, making it seem like the shadows on the walls were coming to life.

She sighed, turning over on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She was chilly, goosebumps dotting her pale, freckled arms in various patterns.

"You're awake," a familiar voice next to her whispered, but she didn't shift her gaze.

"Yes," she replied faintly.

"Wendy?"

"Uh huh?"

"How come you won't look at me?" Dipper asked, sounding slightly hurt but mostly concerned.

She closed her eyes, exhaling lightly. "Just another reminder."

"Of?"

"Of yet another of the great Wendy Corduroy's fuck-ups," she murmured, tears pricking at the edge of her vision, embarrassingly close to spilling over.

Dipper glanced up at the ceiling too, watching the echo of the fireplace flames. "You know that isn't true."

"Of course it is," she replied, somewhat lightly. "I could have found another way around it. I could have saved your arm. I could have fixed it, but I didn't. And are we forgetting that this entire mess is my fault in the first-"

"Stop it right now," Dipper interrupted, quietly but fiercely, shutting her up quickly. "You don't get to be the only one responsible for this, do you understand me?"

"Dipper, you're missing a goddamn limb-"

He help up a finger on his remaining hand, silencing her again. "It was hard. I know. It was an impossible thing for me to ask of you. But you had to do it, do you hear me? You HAD to. You did not have a choice."

No tears fell, but Wendy sat up carefully and stared blankly across the room. "I hurt you," she admitted quietly.

Dipper, with all the strength he could muster, managed to sit upright, slide himself down off the couch, and plop down next to her. Her eyes widened as she put up her hands to stop him. "Dipper, you shouldn't-"

"Hush," he commanded, grabbing one of her wrists, gently but firmly. "I'm fine. Do you see me? I'm alive, and I'm fine. I'm going to be fine." Lightly, he placed her hand on the shoulder of his left side, the only part of his arm that still remained there, bandaged tightly and securely. She jumped, terrified of hurting him, but he held her gaze and kept her hand there. "See? It's okay. You didn't hurt me; you saved me."

Wendy's emerald eyes sparkled with fear, but she didn't move her hand from that spot.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The sun never came up the next morning, which wasn't really unexpected. Ford took out his old, slightly rusted pocket watch and flicked it open. It was 5:39 AM, and it was still pitch dark outside. Even darker, if that was possible.

He scanned the room, his gray hair disheveled and sticking out in odd directions. He patted it down as best he could. Everyone else still seemed to be asleep. At some point, Dipper had either moved or fallen off the couch, and was now curled up back-to-back with Wendy. Mabel and Beckett were on opposite couches, each curled up facing away from the fire. Stan was passed out directly under the window, half-sitting with a pair of brass knuckles in his lap.

That made Ford smile. If there was one thing Stan was always ready for, it was a fight.

Quietly stepping out of the living room, he punched in the familiar code at the vending machine. The old door swung open, creaking loudly, and Ford froze, praying he hadn't woken anybody quite yet. But no noise emanated from the living room, so he breathed a sigh of relief and continued down into the workshop.

Off to the right of the main room, there was a locked wooden closet. While it didn't look especially imposing, Ford knew better. He unlocked it and swung open the door to a broom closet. Stepping inside, he shut the door and unearthed a small keypad hidden on the back wall.

 _Access granted. Welcome, Stanford Pines._

A kind female voice greeted him as the broom closet shifted into a giant warehouse, full wall-to-wall of different things he had collected on his adventures over fifty years.

Smiling to himself, he moved from shelf to shelf, gathering what he would need.

"Dipper, wake up," Mabel whispered, gently shoving her twin. Dipper blinked his eyes open, preparing himself for a burst of morning sun, but none came. He remembered.

"What time is it?" he asked, sitting up. He had a pounding headache, but he was definitely moving more easily now. Wendy, next to him, propped herself up on her elbows. She was still pale, and the black t-shirt Stan had lent her yesterday hung off one shoulder, much too big for her thin frame.

"Not sure," Mabel shrugged, in the process of braiding her long brown hair over her shoulder. She still wore the same clothes from yesterday, but her torn and bleeding knees had been taken care of. On the opposite couch, Beckett sat up, traces of dried blood still on his face, but otherwise okay. "Stan went to walk the perimeter of the shack. He's got three more minutes before I go out there after him, the dumbass."

"Don't worry, not necessary," a gruff voice came from the door as Stan pushed his way back inside. "I'm fine. So's the shack."

"How does it look out there?" Dipper asked, pushing himself up to stand. Dizzy, he grabbed the arm of the couch for support as his head cleared.

"About the same," Stan shrugged. "There's no giant monsters sitting out in the front yard, if that's what you're asking."

"Little help," another voice grunted from the direction of the vending machine. All five looked over to see Ford lugging several boxes up the stairs. Beckett and Stan immediately moved to help him drag everything into the center of the living room.

"What's all this stuff?" Wendy asked, peering into one of the boxes.

"Well, if it's the end of the world, we might as well arm ourselves," Ford grinned. Stan slapped him on the back.

"I like how you think, Poindexter," he laughed.

"These have all been specially made and customized for each of you, and the other two boxes have some weapons I picked up over the years that any of us can use," Ford continued, rummaging in the box. "Wendy, these two are yours." He held out a golden battle axe, slightly bigger than the one she carried around now, as well as a metal crossbow.

"Wow," she whispered, taking them. She ran her fingers over the carvings in the handle of the axe, and they glowed blue in response. She looked up at Ford, startled.

"Mostly protection spells, but also some strength and healing spells," Ford explained. "I found that one about thirty years ago in one of the more violent dimensions I visited. The crossbow is pretty normal, but it's powerful as hell, and the arrows have adamantine heads, one of the hardest materials known to man in any time period."

"Thank you," she smiled, fitting the crossbow over her shoulder and replacing her old axe with the new one in its holster.

"Mabel, this one is a specialized laser-focused shotgun I found about ten years before I came here," Ford continued, handing her what looked like an ordinary sawed-off shotgun. As soon as it touched her hands, though, it emitted a golden glow and pulled up a primitive-but-functional holographic screen.

"Different ammo choices," Mabel noted, scrolling through the screens with a grin on her face.

"Lots of different ammo choices," Ford confirmed. "If it's been made, it's in the database. And the gun responds to one owner and one owner only, so it's yours now."

"Nice," she responded, flicking the screen away.

"Me next, me next," Stan bounced like a five-year-old. Ford chuckled and tossed him a small pistol.

"I knew you'd want to keep your brass knuckles, so I found a handgun for you that's been specially customized to fire off ten laser rounds a second," he explained. "I also refinished your brass knuckles with an adamantine coat, so they're essentially indestructible now." He tossed Stan his trusty brass knuckles, which were now darkened with a new top coat.

"Sweet," Stan acknowledged, sliding the brass knuckles on and taking a few practice swings. "You know me too well."

"Beckett, I'm not sure if you've ever used one before, but I managed to find this one hanging around in the back of my storage," Ford said, walking up to the boy and handing him a two-and-a-half foot sword in a leather sheath.

"A sword?" Beckett asked curiously, unsheathing it and cautiously running a hand over it. "I've never used one."

"This is specialized. It's made of lonsdaelite, comparable to adamantine. Virtually indestructible, sharpened to perfection, and it's laced with concentrated polonium-210, which will kill pretty much anything it touches," Ford continued, and Beckett took his hand off the sword immediately, looking sheepish. "Don't worry, it isn't released until the sword touches blood of any type. So try not to cut yourself," he winked. Beckett nodded and marveled at the black-bladed sword, which almost seemed to produce a dark glow off the hilt.

Ford turned to his great-nephew, his eyes sparkling.

"I hate to tell you, but I don't think I'm going to be able to do much with a crossbow," Dipper grinned.

"And that, my boy, is why I'm you're favorite grunkle," Ford smiled, pulling out the thing he had spent the last two hours redesigning and improving.

It was a prosthetic arm, of sorts, but it was made entirely of a bronze material. It wasn't completely solid, with gears cranking in some spots, but it definitely looked sturdy. The shoulder didn't feature any straps or anything of the sort, but a golden glow emanated from the shoulder socket. Three separate bands of glyphs encircled the upper section of the arm, each a different spell.

"I had to make some improvements, since I took this off a guy a bit bigger than you in a poker game once," Ford admitted sheepishly. "But I fit it to your measurements, upgraded it, and it came with three different spell incantations." He pointed individually to the bands around the arm. "Strength, healing, and power."

"Holy crap," Dipper murmured, running his remaining hand over the smooth bronze of the forearm. "How do I-"

"That's the special thing about this prosthetic," Ford smirked. "It's been programmed to fuse with your actual body without pain. Once we fit it to the rest of your shoulder, it'll stay there until you decide to remove it or it's completely destroyed. But, this being specialized bronze and adamantine, that's fairly unlikely."

Ford lifted the prosthetic while Wendy gently helped Dipper take the bandage off his arm, revealing the freshly-stitched wound from yesterday. The skin around it was badly damaged, but still intact, and he had about an inch of arm left below the shoulder joint. Dipper clenched his teeth, his nerves firing off pain signals when anything touched it.

"Ready?" Ford asked, positioning the arm.

"Let's do it," Dipper inhaled.

He gently guided his remaining limb into the golden-lit shoulder socket of the prosthetic. The second his shoulder touched the hardened bronze, he felt a warm sensation flood through his entire body. The golden light glowed brighter, streaking lines of bronze up Dipper's shoulder and across his chest, flashing brilliantly under his shirt.

As the golden light died down and the warm sensation dissipated, Dipper hesitantly moved the arm. It had become a part of his body, moving exactly like a normal arm would. He flexed the fingers, one by one, and bent it at the elbow joint.

"Holy…" Wendy trailed off, her eyes wide. Mabel and Beckett crouched down beside him, looking at the arm with disbelief.

"That's fucking incredible," Stan marveled.

"Yes, well, we couldn't have him without an arm forever," Ford quipped, blushing.

"Thank you," Dipper said suddenly, standing up and facing Ford. "I can't believe you did this for me."

"Bah," Ford waved him off, sounding a bit like his brother. "Don't thank me. All I did was fix it up."

"You said this thing heals?" Dipper asked.

"Yes," Ford nodded, pointing to the middle band. As he did, it glowed gold, sending the bronze streaks up Dipper's chest again.

Curiously, Dipper carefully removed the arm and almost fell over at the sight. The wound below his shoulder was completely gone, the stitches falling away like snow. In its place was new, smooth skin. There was barely a scar there. It looked like he had been missing the limb for decades.

"That's amazing," he exclaimed, gently placing his hand over the shoulder. No pain remained there.

"It healed you," Wendy inhaled, jumping up beside him and inspecting his shoulder closely. "It looks like nothing ever happened!"

"I've never seen a healing spell quite that good," Ford admitted. "The guy I won the arm from was a mage, though, so it makes sense."

Dipper put the arm in place again and it sealed back to his shoulder. He opened and closed his fist, as if he couldn't quite believe just what the prosthetic was able to do.

"You really came through, brother," Stan admitted, putting an arm around his twin. "I think we all owe you a giant thank you."

"If you want to thank me, don't thank me. Just figure out how to use your weapons and let's figure out how to beat this thing," Ford replied.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Damn," Wendy muttered, kicking one of the metal lab chairs in frustration. While the majority of her dizziness had subsided, she was still a little unsteady.

Unfortunately, this meant that her axe-throwing skills weren't quite as good as they used to be. And the axe sticking out of the laboratory door, a foot from her makeshift target, agreed with her wholeheartedly.

A shot rang out behind her, making her jump out of her skin, and took out the center bullseye of the target. She whirled around, startled, and Mabel grinned cockily at her, raising an eyebrow and brandishing her shotgun.

"Watch where you point that thing," Wendy muttered, casting her gaze downwards.

"Oh, come on. I could have made that with my eyes closed," Mabel giggled. "I won't hit you, I promise."

"This is so frustrating," Wendy replied, sliding down to the floor. "Usually I could, too."

"Well, you can't really blame yourself. You had a hell of a day yesterday," Dipper chimed in from the doorway. Wendy turned towards him and was relieved to see that he looked completely normal, save for the bronze arm. His color had returned to normal and he didn't look like he was on death's doorstep anymore. In fact, he looked a bit intimidating.

That was a funny thought. Little Dipper, suddenly all grown up, was intimidating to her.

"Yeah, you're one to talk," she responded with a small smirk, picking herself up and pacing over to the lab door. With one strong pull, she managed to dislodge the axe. It glinted gold, as if reassuring her that it was fine. She gazed at it, running her fingers over the incantations along the handle again.

A crash echoed from the kitchen upstairs, making all three jump.

"That's Beckett," Mabel snickered, composing herself. "He offered to make lunch. Guess I shouldn't have left him alone up there."

"Yeah, that's why you're running up to check on him," Dipper called as his twin scampered up the stairs. "Keep it kid-friendly!"

He turned back to the redhead studying the axe in her hand. "Does it feel much different from your other one?" he asked.

"A little lighter, actually," she acknowledged, looking over at him. "It should be even easier to throw, but apparently I'm a mess today."

"I think we all are," he replied, stepping up next to her. "Go again?"

"Yeah, I guess," she conceded. She pulled the axe back, the muscles in her thin, freckled arm flexing in response to the weight of the axe. Her emerald eyes narrowed in concentration, and she thrust her arm forward, releasing the axe in the blink of an eye. The axe buried itself in the second ring of the target.

Better. She retrieved the axe again.

"Damn," Dipper enthused, raising his eyebrows. The girl never failed to impress him.

"Still off, man" she muttered, tugging on her fiery red ponytail. "Maybe I'm not shifting my weight to the right enough…" She cocked her arm back yet again.

The feeling of fingers on the back of her neck made her drop it, clanging like a school bell. She froze.

"Sorry," Dipper muttered. "It's just… it caught me off guard." He traced the outline of her Cipher's mark with his pointer and middle fingers. It was the only flaw on her entire body, and he wasn't even sure if you could really call it that.

"You… you said you have one, too," she stuttered, turning to face him. He didn't remove his hand from the back of her neck, and she blushed slightly at the position this put them in, but soldiered on. "Where's yours?"

"Mine?" Dipper asked. He hitched up the left side of his shirt enough to reveal his own mark. Dark and perfectly circular, it traced his ribs and somewhat-defined abs, looking for all the world like a creepy tattoo. Wendy put her hand out and glanced up at him for permission. He put his prosthetic hand over hers, laying it on top of the mark. Wendy could feel the indentations there, each representing a member of their group.

The combination of the cool bronze from his artificial hand and the feeling of his fingers on the back of her neck made her shiver involuntarily. She looked up to find him staring at her intensely, but he quickly looked back down at the floor, knowing he'd been caught staring.

"You're blushing," Wendy noted, smirking.

"Bullshit," Dipper replied, still not looking at her.

"I win," she grinned.

"What?"

"Man, I've been trying to get you to blush just once since you got here. It used to be so easy when you were younger! And this is the first time I've succeeded in my plot," she laughed.

He stared at her, as her laughs slowly disappeared and she was left with a half, lopsided smile. "What? Don't be mad. I've gotta make my own fun, you know."

"Well, just so you're aware, I'm a competitive person," Dipper warned her.

"Wh-" She was cut off by Dipper kissing her quickly. It was short, but just long enough for a fire to ignite in her belly and for her to be able to memorize the feeling of his mouth on hers. He stepped back, leaving her standing there, face burning furiously and eyes wide.

"I win," he winked, before heading back up the stairs.

A voice echoed up behind him. "DIPPER PINES, YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!" Wendy hollered, chasing him up the stairs. He laughed the whole way back.


	22. Author's Note

Hi all,

I recently received a comment telling me to consider finishing the story and that it deserves an ending. It caught me by surprise at first, but I realized that the person was absolutely right, the story does deserve an ending. So I've decided to finish it, not just for you guys but for me. My upload schedule will be a little slow, but you have my word that this story will have an ending.

Love,

Jules


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"I can't believe you haven't lost your mind over all this yet," Mabel noted, plopping down in the kitchen chair so she could supervise Beckett's poor attempt at cooking. "I would if I didn't know what was happening."

"Well, it's hard not to feel pretty safe when you're surrounded by people with battle axes and magical arms," Beckett joked, turning around, flour streaked across his face. "You guys would be terrifying if you weren't on my side."

"You're one to talk," she joked, pushing herself up and dusting off his face for him. He scrunched up his nose childishly at her. "You're no joke with that sword. You said you've never used one before?"

"Nope, I'm a sword virgin," he said proudly. "That thing feels like it's made for me, though. I don't think I'm doing all the work."

"Knowing Ford, probably not," she smirked, but quickly became serious. "But I want to talk to you about something. If you have a minute."

"I have a minute," he replied with a small smile. "I think the fried chicken is a total loss anyway."

She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes slightly shiny. "You saved both of us back at that movie theater, you know? And you could have died." She shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly nervous. "I got here, and all I wanted to do was come back for you, but Stan wouldn't let me back out of the house, and I don't want you to think I didn't try-"

She was cut off by him taking his face gently in both of her hands. "Are you kidding?" he replied quietly. "I would have killed you myself if you'd tried to come back for me. I just… I don't want anything to happen to you, Mabel. Not now, not ever." He gently kissed her once, not wanting to overstep, but she quickly wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss, making him lose his breath. Even after everything that happened, she still tasted like cherry lip gloss. He gently ran his fingers over the cuts on her arms that were starting to heal, pulling away and looking at her a bit sadly.

"I'm okay, I promise," she whispered, taking his hands in hers and pressing their foreheads together gently. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

Suddenly, the basement door (vending machine) slammed open, and Dipper came scrambling out, pounding up the stairs. Wendy was about two seconds behind him, crossbow in hand, yelling at the top of her lungs. Beckett and Mabel jumped apart and burst into laughter. "Is she threatening him or telling him she loves him?" Beckett asked.

"Probably both," Mabel replied, a mischievous smirk on her face. "Come on, let's see what you can do with that sword. Lunch can wait." She pulled him towards the basement door, laughing as he blushed slightly at the innuendo.

Dipper had his hand on the door handle out to the roof when an arrow embedded itself about half an inch to the right. He froze, turning around and gazing at the murderous redhead that brandished the crossbow there.

"Nice shot," he quipped, smiling dumbly.

"Have you LOST your mind?" she yelled, advancing on him, dropping the crossbow so he knew she wasn't actually going to hurt him. "Of all the stupid jokes you've tried to pull on me, this is the worst-"

"Well, to be fair, it wasn't really a joke," he admitted, shrugging. "I just really wanted to kiss you and you gave me a convenient excuse to do it."

She stared at him incredulously, voice momentarily lost.

"I can't tell if you're really mad or just-"

"What the hell took you so long?" she exclaimed, glowering at him, her green eyes bright.

"What?"

"I've been in love with you for months, you dumbass! Why the hell didn't you notice sooner?" she punched him in the right arm, definitely hard enough to hurt. "God, I'm such a moron! All of this could have been avoided if I had just kept the hell away from you all summer, but you're so different and it was like getting to know you all over again and I can't believe you didn't tell me-"

Dipper stopped her by grabbing her forearms and flipping their positions, so that her back was firmly against the attic door. "I'm not the most forthcoming guy sometimes."

"Bullshit," she accused, still glaring. "And you think the best way to tell me is to just kiss me after I've been throwing my axe around all morning-"

Dipper kissed her passionately then, shutting her up for good and making her back rub against the rough wood door. She wrapped her legs around his waist like a vine, threading her fingers through his soft, auburn hair as he traced the straight line of her teeth with his tongue, making her draw in a breath. As he traced kisses along her jawline, marveling at the freckles that made her skin look like the night sky, she sighed and leaned her head back slightly, enjoying the feeling.

"We could have been doing this all summer," she inhaled. "If one of us had said something."

"We're very stubborn people," he agreed, finding his way back to her mouth and brushing his lips against hers teasingly. Impatient, she pulled him back in for another heated kiss.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"You've been in here all afternoon, Poindexter," Stan stated gruffly, opening the door to the Mystery Shack's library and staring pointedly at his brother. Ford glanced up at him, waiting to be made fun of, but Stan pulled up a chair next to him and sighed. "Need help?"

Ford looked shocked at the offer, but quickly shook it off and nodded. "Absolutely. I think I may have an idea."

"I thought you said we were hopeless," Stan grinned crookedly.

"Maybe not as much as I thought," Ford chuckled, but his face quickly became serious, the worry lines around his eyes more prominent than ever. "You won't like it."

"I don't like any of this."

"I mean it, Stanley. You need to promise me that you'll look at this as a big picture thing, because I can't think of anything else that will work." Ford put his head in his hands.

Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm just kidding. I will, Poindexter. What's your brilliant idea?"

The next ten minutes were spent with Ford explaining how everything was to work, who was to do what, and how everything would end. Stan sat quietly and listened, his frown getting deeper as the explanation went on.

"That's how it will work. It has to work. Do you understand?" Ford asked, glancing at his brother.

"No," Stan grumbled, putting his hands flat on the table. "I don't think so. We'll figure something else out."

"Stanley, we're out of time," Ford sighed. "We don't have another twelve hours to figure out another plan. Our dimension is literally being ripped apart at the seams every second we sit here. At my estimate, we have maybe four more hours before reality becomes too torn for us to continue existing. We need to do this, and we need to do it now."

Stan glared at his brother.

"Please, Stanley," Ford begged. "You can do this. You have to."

Turning away, he nodded slightly in assent, leaving the library and slamming the door behind him.

"Dipper," Mabel yelled from her spot near the window where she and Beckett sat, looking for any signs of anything outside, but there was nothing but darkness. The shack had begun to blur at the edges, looking like someone had inserted a bad graphics card into the universe.

"Here," he replied, thundering down the stairs with Wendy right behind him. Their clothes were suspiciously wrinkled, and Dipper's hair was wilder than usual. Mabel raised her eyebrow, but opted to ignore it. For the moment. "What's going on?"

"Something's happening, I think," Mabel stated quietly, gesturing to the window. Stan appeared behind them, scanning the horizons. Or what was left of it.

Suddenly, the darkness cleared just enough for them to be able to make out a figure at the edge of the property line. It appeared to be a man, extremely tall and thin, but his skin was purely black, enough so that they couldn't make out any sort of facial features. Except his eyes. It struck Dipper as slightly unnerving that they could see his eyes from this distance, but they could. They were swirling grey and silver, like a tornado descending from a wall cloud, with the occasional flash of red. He didn't quite look angry. Almost… smug, maybe.

He raised a black hand, ever so smoothly and slowly, and Stan tackled Mabel and Beckett off the window seat. "Get down!" he hollered, and Dipper instinctively turned and covered Wendy's body with his own just as every window in the shack imploded in on them. Dipper could feel small, stinging cuts all over his arms and back, but the bronze arm glowed and quickly closed them up, warmth flooding through his body. He quickly sat up.

"Everyone okay?" he yelled, wind howling through the shack now. Mabel sat up, unharmed except for a few scratches. Beckett had a nasty gash over his left eye, now dripping blood, but he saluted, indicating that he was fine. Stan just looked furious.

"I just replaced those windows," he growled, slipping on his newly renovated brass knuckles and pulled his handgun from his belt. His fez was long gone, replaced by the red beanie Ford had given him. His white t-shirt was torn and so were the knees of the jeans Mabel had forced him to buy, but he looked for all the world like a World War II soldier ready to kick some ass. "I guess we're doin' this."

Ford emerged from the library, a bag hung around his waist and a small knife in his left hand. "We are. Can you all handle this?"

"You haven't told us how we finish this yet," Mabel indicated, but she withdrew her shotgun and pumped the action.

"Just keep him distracted and keep his attention on you. Stan and I will do the rest," Ford nodded at her.

Beckett drew his sword and held it at his side, one hand on the door. He glanced back at the rest of them. Dipper's artificial hand was clenched into a fist, ready for a fight. Wendy gripped her battle axe tightly, the symbols casting a blue glow on the underside of her face.

Dipper lifted his chin at Beckett, then quickly grabbed and squeezed Wendy's hand. She squeezed back.

Beckett opened the door, and it was time.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The six stepped out onto the porch of the shack. Boards were missing, and the wood pillars that held up the roof were beginning to splinter from the wind. It blew around them, but none of them could feel it. It was like they were in a force field.

Wendy looked up and leveled her gaze at the shadowy figure on the other side of the front yard. They were only about ten feet apart, now, and she could see him much more clearly. He was thin, almost unhealthily so, but he seemed to stand firm in the midst of all the wind. His eyes flashed as he watched the group approach slowly, weapons lowered but ready to be used.

"After all that," he spoke, his voice too smooth and too deep. It raised the hair on the back of Wendy's neck, and she stopped. He connected their gazes, and she was frozen to the spot. She vaguely felt Dipper's hand catch her wrist, but she couldn't acknowledge it. "After all you did to try and protect your friends, you brought them all to me anyway, my child. Brilliant."

Wendy looked to Dipper, terrified that she might see a flash of doubt across his face, but he just looked at her with concern before moving to stand just in front of her. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said firmly, glaring at the figure.

Terrified that she had led her friends to their deaths, Wendy began to shake visibly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I know," Dipper continued, his voice booming across the field with an authority to it that Wendy had never heard. "I know the things you've done to her. What you've said to her and when you've said it. She owes you nothing."

"She owes me everything," the figure contradicted him. "She owes me both her life and yours. And today is the day I plan on collecting on that debt."

"You've lost your damn mind if you think you're touching any of them," Stan warned, stepping forward, his fists raised aggressively. "Those kids are my family."

"Stanley," the figure commented, turning now to face him. "You've grown since you were a child. You and your brother, I can't believe you're even in the same house after all this time."

Stanley just glared back.

"I watched you as children. All of you," the figure said, gesturing widely with his shadowy arms. A sweeping trail of silver followed his every movement. "My victims are selected the moment they are born. And you all grew up to be the perfect sacrifices to me. You were intended to originally be sacrificed by Bill Cipher. And somehow, that moronic entity failed to take care of the easiest job on the planet. So, I figured it was time to take care of things myself."

It stepped forward now, beginning to close the distance between them. The grass beneath its feet shriveled and died with every step it took.

"Dipper," Ford whispered frantically, grabbing his grand-nephew's arm. "I need you guys to keep him busy. I need to take Wendy and Stan. Just hold him off for a few minutes."

"What are you talking about?" Dipper asked, looking confused.

"Please trust me," Ford murmured, before giving Dipper a sad smile and turning. He whispered something to Wendy, who nodded, and Stan joined them as they headed back into the house.

"Three gone already? It's almost unfair," the figure taunted. It was only two feet from Dipper at this point, and he glanced at both Mabel and Beckett, who held his gaze.

Now or never, he supposed, and curled his metal arm into a fist. Mabel raised her shotgun, leveling it at the dark figure's chest, and Beckett drew his sword, crouching into an attack position. The three charged at the figure, who smirked and began to glow silver.

Dipper reached him first, launching a powerful swing directly at the figure's neck, but it went through him like he was nothing, something Dipper had been prepared for. Tensing his shoulder, he felt the arm begin to glow gold just at the figure launched a trail of silver smoke at him. He disappeared and quickly reappeared behind it in a flash of light, grinning as he silently thanked the mage who had crafted the arm in the first place. The figure turned to strike again, but right as it did, Beckett swung his sword in a wide arc. The lonsdaelite had more of an effect than Dipper's punch had, easily opening up a half-inch deep cut on the figure's shoulder, which immediately began to leak silver.

The figure yelled in anger, turning around faster than was visible to the naked eye, and Beckett took a shot of silver full on in the face. He collapsed at the figure's feet, breathing heavily and in obvious pain.

"If you put your STUPID SILVER HANDS on my boyfriend again, I swear to God I will send you back so many dimensions you won't know where you came from!" Mabel screamed, squeezing off a round of golden bullets. Her aim was flawless, but the figure disappeared into a cloud of silver smoke, the bullets passing through it harmlessly. It rematerialized behind Dipper and sliced a hand across the top of his right shoulder, but Dipper just as quickly counterattacked with a knife that had materialized from his bronze hand, cutting the figure deeply again in the exact same spot. The two of them now had the same wound. The only difference was that one bled silver, the other red.

Mabel shot again. With the figure's back turned, she scored a hit at the small of its back, but all it did was knock it forward slightly, and it quickly regained its balance.

"You can injure me all you want," it hissed, still dripping silver from its wounds. "But you can't get rid of me. I'm tied to this dimension."

"By me," Dipper heard from behind him, and turned. Wendy was standing behind all of them, Stan and Ford each on one side of her. She no longer carried any of her weapons. "Am I right?"

It grinned at her horribly, its teeth too white in contrast to its dark body. "You're smarter than I gave you credit for."

"I am," she spoke bravely, stepping forward now, in front of Dipper and Mabel. "There are a lot of things I know about you. Not as many as you know about me, but enough."

The figure shot a trail of silver at her, slicing her lower arm. She bent at the waist, and Dipper ran to her, but she quickly straightened up and held up a hand, stopping him from coming any closer.

"And the things I don't know, they know," she gestured back towards everyone with her uninjured arm. "You were right, it isn't fair. It's six against one."

"You're delusional if you think six people could come close to matching me," it growled, again shooting a beam of light at her. This one cut her across the cheek and nose, and she winced, but kept going.

"You are tied to this dimension. By me. You have been since I was a child."

"And that means you lose. Because there's no way to break those ties," it replied haughtily, raising its hand for another attack.

Wendy straightened up, her red hair easily visible in the darkness. "And one of the things I know is that that's not true."

She turned, locking eyes with Dipper before moving her gaze. He followed it to see Stan pointing a shotgun at Wendy's chest, tears streaming down his wrinkled face, his trigger finger shaking.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dipper yelled, running towards his grunkle. He was a foot away when the shot rang out.

Wendy fell to the grass, blood blooming on her white tanktop, her green eyes now dull and staring off into nothing. Her lips were tinged with blood, and she moved no more.


	26. Join In!

Hi, loyal readers!

I know you guys have been waiting a long time, and the last this I want to do is disappoint you. I've been working on this story's ending for a long time now, deciding what would be the kindest and best fate for all of the characters. Deciding what stories need to end, what stories need to continue, and who needs who. And it's finally finished.

I'll be releasing the final chapter of the main story (there may be an epilogue in the future?) at 8:00am EST tomorrow. I really hope that I gave you guys, and these characters, the ending that everyone deserves. And I do hope that it is worth the wait for you guys. For me, it was.

I feel so privileged to have reached so many people with this story. It's incredible to see readers in other countries viewing and following my work. I never in a million years saw that happening. So for each one of you who have followed this story, even for just a chapter, I can't tell you how much it meant to me.

I hope to write more in the future. I hope you read what I write in the future. And, most of all, I hope you guys never stop dreaming.

Jules


	27. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

She was gone before her fiery red hair hit the ground, something Stan was grateful for. He didn't think he'd be able to survive it if his great-nephew had to hold the love of his life in his arms while she died. Nevertheless, he ran to her side, dropping down next to her and grasping her limp wrists.

"Wendy, come back! Please, come back, there has to be another way to do this, please! NO!" Dipper screamed, both his human and prosthetic hand stained with her blood. Tears streamed down his face and he cried out, an inhuman sound that Stan was unfortunately familiar with, that he had made before himself. He set his jaw and tried to will away the tears in his eyes, but his knees buckled under him and he fell to the ground.

Dipper, realizing that Wendy was gone for real, stood and ran towards Stan, shoving him onto his back onto the grass. "What did you do? What the hell did you just do?" he yelled, grabbing Stan's collar and aiming a punch at his face. Stan took it gladly, feeling his nose break and fresh blood run down his face.

The silver figure was oddly still, inches away from them, realizing what they had done.

"Dipper," Ford whimpered, crying but still managing to pull his great-nephew off his brother by his good arm. "Dipper, use your head. Think about it."

"How am I supposed to think when she's gone?" Dipper cried out, falling to his knees on the grass beside Stan. "Bring her back, BRING HER BACK!"

"We can't," Stan murmured, grabbing his great-nephew and pulling him into a bone-crushing arm lock to keep him from doing anything rash. "We can't, boy. She's gone."

"SHE'S NOT GONE!" he screamed in anguish, trying to wrestle himself out of his grunkle's hold. "SHE'S NOT! I CAN SAVE HER!"

Mabel was bent over the form of her friend, sobbing and holding her cold hand. Beckett, who had lay crumpled on the floor just a moment ago, blinked his eyes open slowly and confusedly, trying to take in his surroundings. His face was badly burnt.

"You can't save her, Dipper. Not this time," Ford choked, his hand trembling. "But you can finish this. You know how."

"I can't," he sobbed, doubled over at the waist. Stan's face broke as he felt all the fight go out of his great-nephew and his tears finally spilled over. He put his head down on the boy's good shoulder just as there was a flash of golden light that just about blinded all of them.

Ford's first thought was that it was the arm, that it had detected something was wrong and was trying to heal the dead young woman. But his blood ran cold as he heard a familiar voice.

"Long time, no see, Sixer."

Ford whirled around to see the figure of Bill hovering inches above the stairs of the Mystery Shack. Stan and Dipper both jumped up as well, and Dipper jumped in front of the two brothers.

"What do you want?" Dipper snarled, his eyes red and his cheeks covered in scratch marks from his own fingers. "What more could you possibly want from me right now?"

Bill approached them and Dipper braced for a fight, a punch, some kind of energy beam that would throw him backwards and maybe force him into the same fate as Wendy.

But none came. He opened his eyes and Bill was hovering in front of him, now, just a foot away.

"I want a lot of things, Pine Tree. But this time, nothing from you."

The shadowed figure snarled again, but it seemed to be rooted in place, unable to attack the people that it had been going after just a few minutes ago. "Back to finish your work, imbecile?"

Bill looked at the figure warily. "Not quite, friend. Not this time."

"Friend?" Ford ground out, pulling his gun back from the holster.

"Don't get trigger-happy on me now, Sixer. Like I said, I'm not here to take anything from you this time," Bill assured, his voice oddly calm and unthreatening. It had lost the edge to it that had haunted Dipper for years. "I suppose I am here to finish my work, in a way." He swung his gaze back to the silver figure.

"Go home, Bill. There's nothing here for you," the figure growled. Its hands shone silver, but like before, nothing happened.

And suddenly, like magic, there was a golden hole burned into the center of its chest, silver blood pouring out. Bill shot again, hitting the figure directly between where its eyes would have been.

It screamed, wailing with the sound of a million dying souls, and Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of what would follow. When he opened them again, the figure lay on its back on the grass and Bill hovered above it.

"You've sealed your own fate, traitor," the figure yelled, but silver blood was running from the corner of its mouth and Bill knew that it could no longer stand or defend itself.

"Joke's on you," Bill conceded, grabbing the figure around the throat and squeezing. "I sealed my fate eons ago."

And then, in a burst of black dust, the figure was gone, the shadows around Gravity Falls dissipating with it.

Mabel ran to Beckett, sliding in beside him on her knees and cradling his head. "Oh, Beckett, oh my God. You're all right. You'll be all right."

"I'm all right," he croaked and smiled, but quickly grimaced with pain.

Behind Bill, the two brothers stood beside each other, waiting for the demon to turn around.

But they both turned as their great-nephew yelled in terror.

"Holy fuck," he gasped, but it was true, it was real, and Wendy's eyes were open and she was staring at him, paralyzed with terror. The blood staining the ground under her remained, but her gunshot wound was gone and her chest rose and fell steadily. She clenched her hands tightly, her fingers white and her teeth chattering.

"Oh my God," Ford breathed, jogging over to the two of them. "I don't understand- how…"

"Wendy? Can you hear me? Please tell me you can hear me," Dipper cried, his voice and hands both shaking, afraid to touch her. But her gaze flickered over to him and she nodded slightly.

"Holy fuck is right," Stan inhaled. "Ford, what did you do?"

"I didn't… I didn't…" Ford was at a complete loss for words. The dead had come back to life, right in front of him.

"Never let it be said that all of my deals are unfair," Bill answered, and all three men turned to look at him. He was back on the stairs of the Mystery Shack.

"Deal?" Dipper asked, standing and moving towards him cautiously. "I didn't make a deal with you, Bill."

"No, you didn't," Bill replied. "I made this trade all on my own, Pine Tree. A soul for a soul."

"That thing traded its soul for Wendy?" Dipper inquired, still shaking.

"No, Dipper. He didn't have a soul to trade. But I did," Bill conceded.

Dipper felt his face go blank with shock, and he knew that his grunkles had the same expression. "You… you gave up your soul. For her. For me?"

"Don't get too mushy on me, Pine Tree," the triangle chuckled briefly. "I was doomed anyway, the second I betrayed Erebus. But, at least this way, it wasn't a total wash."

Dipper dropped to his knees again, but this time in shock, not fear. "I don't understand… I don't get it, Bill. Why did you do this?"

Bill smiled sadly at him, the corners of his body beginning to turn black and fade to dust, just like Erebus had. With his last breath, he met Stan's gaze and spoke.

"Looks like I was good for something after all," Bill exhaled, and then he too was gone for eternity.


End file.
